troubles - l.r.h

four

authors note:

guys guys guys i imagine trouble having a shailene woodley type of voice. ((she does not look like shai, she just has a voice like her okay?))

OH GOD THE TFIOS REFERENCE im so lame

alright, i'll calm down. keep on reading.

and um please don't forget to vote and comment, it makes me happy :')

-

▼Luke▼

11 PM

We sit in Michaels room a couple of hours later. Everyone is here.

"I don't even kow if Nipple's reaction was realistic." Michael chuckles, his eyes sqeezing shut. "Her face was like, molded into one weird clay thing. It was kind of disturbing."

"Poor Nipples." Ashton says, tugging at his hair.

"Hey, that's my line!" I shout and stand up from the couch to lightly punch Ash on his bicep.

"Not anymore!" He grins and pulls me down into the scratched up denim armchair, where he is sitting. I awkwardly fall forwards, hitting the armrest with my head. My arms are folded in weird angles, and I bet it all just looks very strange to the others. Ashton giggles. I try to stand up firmly again, but I wobble lightly, losing my balance, once again. I hear Calum sighing.

"Hey, you two. Don't get too excited now." Michael says, grinning. He is seated next to Abbie in the small couch by the wall; his arm behind her back and their legs tangled up. Abbie is staring lovingly at Michael while he talks, but he is looking at the group, and not her.

We have all decided to stay in Michael's room for the night, since his is the largest. There's enough room for five matrasses on the floor - that's where we are going to sleep for tonight. Students aren't allowed to stay in each other's dorm rooms at night; but then again, who does not break that rule? "No one cares for it anyway" Michael told me earlier.

3 AM

I'm sitting on one of the matrasses on the floor, leaned up against the couch behind me where Mike and Abbie sat earlier. My body is heavy from sleep, and my eyelids feel like bricks. Trouble is sitting next to me, her legs pulled up to her chest, her messy, almost white hair topped by Michaels black snapback. She finishes her cigarette, puffing out a small trail of smoke.

"You're literally killing me just by breathing." I let out, almost whispering, not giving my words a second thought.

"Hm?" She lets out. I then realise how accurate my words really are.

"Passive smoking." I say and she puts Michael's snapback on my head. My hair gets messed up. Trouble tilts her head back to lean on the couch behind us.

"I don't think the smoke is killing you, Bond. I am." She is whispering. Im shiver. She knows, she knows, she knows, she knows how fucked I am when it comes to her.

Her words hit me right in the chest. She is the smoke. I nod lightly.

Michael and Abbie are making out in front of us; she's sitting on top of him, his hands are roughly grasping to the skin of her hips. I try to look away, but it's hard not to. They seem so vulgar.

Trouble kicks Abbie lightly on her leg. "Hey." Still whispering.

Abbie looks up, lips swollen. "What?"

"Remember to breathe. Just, every once in a while." She smirks and Abbie rolls her eyes at her, and turns back to Mike. Abbie slows him down, her movements not so feverish. His grasp lightens and he lets her go.