First one. Comment if you like it. Or comment if it's shit. Or don't comment at all.
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Live and let die,
Aiyana Bella
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
(Y/n)'s p.o.v.
I was hanging out with Axl, Izzy, Steven, Saul, Duff, and some other random fuckers, and pretty much doing nothing productive. Music was blasting, people were yelling, beer was spilled, and everyone was piled onto my couch. I didn't mind the chaos for two reasons:
1) my life revolves around it
2) I was happy to be spending time with Duff, my long time crush.
Ok, yeah, it sounds like we're back in the seventh grade when you put it that way, but I don't know how else to express it. Do I need a different word?
Bottom line is:
I love him; he doesn't know.
Contrary to popular belief, I am not a groupie. People always assume that I am since I'm usually with the guys, and I'm not dating any of them. The reality is, they're my closest friends. And I wouldn't trade that for the world.
~~~~~~~
After a while, everyone had gotten a bit tipsy. Not drunk, but the alcohol had taken a bit of an effect. Anyways, we were intoxicated and Axl started asking everyone a shit ton of stupid questions.
"(Y/N)!!!!!"
"Whaaat?" I asked, annoyed.
"Would you fuck a goat?"
"No, Axl. I would not fuck a goat."
"What if Duff was a goat?"
I glared at him, for implying that I want to fuck Duff in front of Duff, but played it off.
"I wouldn't fuck that sack of shit as a human," I playfully said while locking eyes with and throwing a beer cap towards Duff, who only smirked.
"I'm suuure you wouldn't, sugar tits," he taunted as he threw it back.
"Pretty sure Duff's gay, anyways," I teased.
"Oh I know my way around, babe," he winked playfully.
"Come on man, stop flirting," said Saul (or Slash).
"Yeah right. I wouldn't fuck her if she was the hottest chick on Earth, 'cause she's such a meanie," he whined as he gave me a half smile to let me know that he was just fuckin' with me.
"Oh, but you know I love you, Michael dear," I said in an awful British accent as I batted my eyes at Duff.
"Awe I hate you too."
*time skip*
A few hours later, all the random people were gone, leaving my five best friends and I to entertain ourselves.
Now it was safe to say that I was the least drunk of the group (though I was at least a little hammered), because I have to be conscious and aware enough to tell everyone when to book it. After all, finding a bunch of drunken 17 year olds passed out on your couch wasn't exactly the welcome I wanted my father to come home to.
