Chapter 14 || "I like when you call me that."

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- Pandora -

Harry was - in a way - pretty different from every other guy I had met. For a start, he was English. But that wasn't the only reason.

He didn't mock me, he just stood and listened. I would moan about something completely pointless and he would agree almost instantly, replying with a funny joke or helpful tip. I felt like I could literally tell this brown haired British guy anything, and I hadn't even known him a day.

I didn't like him like him, but he definitely seemed like a really nice guy to be friends with. I didn't meet many people like that anymore.

"Whelp, I better go." I sighed, taking a quick glance at my phone before out into the living room.

I had literally been standing talking to Harry for the past fifteen minutes, leaving Ashton completely alone. God knows what he was up to by now.

"Remember to save me a dance." Harry smiled, pulling me into a tight embrace before quickly pulling away, leaving the scent of his aftershave on my dress.

I gave him a small nod as my cheeks burned red, my mouth curled up into a slight smile.

I didn't want him to see what he was doing to me, but it was getting extremely hard to hide.

We exchanged a briefly awkward goodbye before I finally left to go back into the living room, already on my fourth cup of alcohol. I didn't feel drunk, but I probably was.

I guess I'd just have to wait and see.

"Ashton?" I called, curiously peering around the crowded room.

The music drowned out my voice and filled my ears, making it impossible to hear or speak. There was no other way to find Ashton except by looking.

As I weaved my way through the crowds of people, a large hand was placed on my shoulder, abruptly tugging me backwards. I stumbled slightly in my heels before regaining my balance, angrily spinning around to face the mystery person

This person - although incredibly drunk - was also attractive, his skin slightly tanned with dark brown hair that was gelled back into a ponytail. Tattoos covered the arm that held me, full of colour and art.

He was beautiful.

"Um, excuse me." I coughed, trying to slip out of his grip.

He rapidly shook his head and tugged me closer to his chest, resting his head on my shoulder. I wanted to push him off me, but as his arms slowly wrapped around my waist, I knew what he was wanting.

"Oh, you um- you want to dance?" I stammered, awkward wrapping my arms around his neck.

He wasn't much taller than me - which was a massive change from the guys I usually hang out with - so it wasn't very hard to reach him. I could rest my head on shoulder if I wanted to, but I really didn't.

Attractive or not, I still didn't know him. He could be a famous pop star for all I know, and I wasn't ready to be the next band groupie.

My mum would kill me.

"So, what's your name?" I asked after time, the silence driving me insane.

The boy slurred something incomprehensible before falling onto me, his face landing directly onto my chest. I let out an awkward giggle before pushing him away, looking around to make sure nobody saw.

"Um, are you okay?"

The boy nodded and continued to dance, leaning most of his weight onto me. I tried the best I could to hold him up, but having muscles and all that good stuff, he finally became too heavy.

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