Overjoyed // {Bastille}

29. Gentle Touch

"Words are all we have..."
- Overjoyed, Bastille

-Δ-

Rosemary

"Tell me what you're thinking." I said whilst trying to zip the dress off my body.

"What do you mean?" His footsteps came closer, making my stomach knot. He laughed, "You need help?"

It infuriated me, how he could seem so content. I, on the other hand, was anything but happy. Liam was supposed to be in France. I was supposed to never see him again. Why did he have to be there tonight? Great day, great day...

"Yes, please." I breathed. His fingers touched my skin ever so delicately as he unzipped my dress. It was as if he meant to have his hand trail done my spine, mimicking the dictation of the zipper. That tease.

"Tell me." I pressed. Now, I needed to find a strategy as to how I would take this off without flashing him.

"I'm confused." He said simply, "I don't know what to think. Liam said so many things..."

"Like what?"

I had successfully managed to put on a shirt without flashing my breasts.

"You used to drink.... I don't know okay. I don't know, he's not reliable."

My head snapped up. Okay, Liam of all people should know what not to say.

"You... you don't still drink like that do you?" he asked hesitantly.

I looked down at my feet. It was no lie, I turned to the lovely escape that was alcohol after the various events that I hated to approach. I went through hell to get myself out of that, now I can get drunk without over doing it. But the fact that Dan stood before me made that the contrary. I had over done it last December. And I now had the end product to show for it... even if it was a good one.

"I think you can answer that." I proceeded to slip on sweatpants, and pull my hair away from my face.

Dan stayed silent, seeming to be in deep thought.

"I guess, I'm just as lost as you are." I whispered whilst I sat on my bed, gesturing for him to take a seat as well. His suit wrinkled as he did do, making me cringe.

"We don't really know anything do we?" he asked sarcastically, looking up at my ceiling. "We only know as much as we allow ourselves too." I lay myself down. Dan following suit.

"Then why don't I know the answer to life? I've opened up my doors of knowledge, yet no answer has come." his laughter was infectious, lightening the mood, "You know what I mean."

We didn't speak for the next grouping of minutes. The ceiling was too white for my eyes, and thoughts began to vicariously float away and out from my ears, and from my nose. I couldn't comprehend them as they made their dismal departing.

"Tell me about Maggie." I whispered, his head shot up. "Another time." he said sternly, catching me off guard.

I pursed my lips, "Okay then. Tell me about your family."

To this he happily agreed, giving me whiplash for the nth time due to the change in mood. He explained every last detail about his sister, Fran, who was bound to be married soon, and his parents, who lived just outside of London. Elaborating on his childhood, he spoke of things that I hadn't even asked to hear. Music seemed to have been a very adamant subject. Which was no surprise. He shared a love for poetry and film, an area that he had so generously covered a few weeks prior. And how he could hardly ever express his feelings unless it was written down on paper...