A/N:
Just to tell you: This is a very AU chapter.
Be forewarned, for this chapter is a little racy. Be expecting it, of course, since this song is about a stripper.
Ahh, the innocent minds of my favorite band. They sure know how to envision.
Summary: So Wrong, It's Right: A collection of Lily/James drabbles, based on the album by All Time Low.
Disclaimer: Nothing's mine!
Read and review!
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Song:
DEAR MARIA, COUNT ME IN
::All Time Low::
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He doesn't know how he got here, but he doesn't care, and he watches with avid fascination as the stripper's flame red hair tumbles down her back. Scantily clad and perfect down to the very last detail, she's slowly rotating around the metal pole in the middle of the stage.
It's his birthday. And she knows it.
Through a drunken haze, James recalls his friends pulling him to the bar for his 21st year. It's an unexpected surprise, they told him. A little gift from his best pals.
Now he's staring, captivated, at the alluring woman in front of him, and it seems as if every cell in his body has been charged with electricity. She's coming closer, a tantalizing little smile dancing on her perfect red lips, her skin creamy smooth and alabaster. She reaches out with one hand and draws a line down from his jaw to his collarbone, retracing it again and again.
James is vaguely aware of the hoots and hollers from the crowd as she continues to tease him. He probably looks possessed; his eyes are surely filled with the lust he's feeling, the want he has for this naughty little red stripper in front of him.
She's playing with him. He knows it.
Maybe later, after the show's done, he'll have her prove that she's worth the play.
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He wakes up the next morning, recalling a portion of last night's events.
The only thing he can remember is a pair of emerald green eyes.
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A/N:
Yes, the stripper is Lily. That should be apparent.
To Fantastical Fwooper: You know All Time Low? You like All Time Low? I am officially joyous for life.
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-.x.