SINNERS & SAINTS ⋆ nikki sixx

44. ✭ intervention

Shaking those unhealthy notions from her brain, Christine simply smiled to herself and tried to relish in the attention she was amassing at the hands of such an attractive individual.

"Last night was..."

"Great," she completed his sentence, smiling when they made eye contact. "But now you're gonna have to leave."

Reluctantly, unwillingly, Chris peeled herself away from him and yanked the comforter from her body, flinching as a chill shot down the length of her spine.

Despite his eyes already following her naked form as she writhed and whimpered atop him in the few hours prior, an aura of bashfulness began to haze around her and she suddenly felt more than uncomfortable in his presence.

Reaching for the random, oversized, shirt that had been slung to the vanity chair last night, she quickly yanked it over her head and hoped to God that he hadn't gotten too much of an eyeful already.

"Ratt?"

"What?"

He pointed to the shirt, her heart clenching within her chest. "Didn't put you down as a Ratt fan."

Before pulling it on, she didn't even realize that it was Nikki's shirt resting against the chair.

It still smelled like him. Though his cologne was beginning to fade away into nothing, the shirt still held that familiar Nikki scent that she loved, and missed, so much.

Ouch, she thought to herself.

She bit back the urge to erupt into a fit of tears, instead opting to, weakly, simper.

"Yep," she partially fabricated, "huge fan."

"Good to know."

"Really?" she asked him, proceeding to rub at her face with the shitty makeup wipes that Liane had given to her because she was sick of the sight of Christine's 'cruddy mascara' whenever she saw her.

"Hell yeah. You're a hot girl with sick music taste," he told her, pulling on his leather pants, "remind me to talk you into bed again some other time."

Kinda arrogant. Kinda sleazy. Kinda like a certain someone.

"Sick leathers," thanking her with a simple nod, he smiled, "I'd totally love to see them on my bedroom floor some other time. But you have got to leave, either through my window or the bathroom--"

"--Why not the front door? You know, like a normal person?"

Because this is my big brother's house and if he finds out that I have brought yet another random man home from the bar, for the eleventh time in the last two weeks, he is gonna roundhouse kick my ass.

"Because I don't want anybody to see you."

He scoffed, zipping his pants up. "Thanks. Means a lot."

"I'm sorry, I am," she ran a hand over her face, cringing at how much of a bitch she was starting to seem, "I'm just--"

"--Beginning to rethink what we just did?" her lips rubbed together while she tried to avoid his gaze. "I guess that I shouldn't get my hopes up and expect a call from you sometime soon then?"

"You haven't given me your number, so how do you even expect me to call you?" Chris told him smartly, smirking a little as he paced over to her.

"Do you want my number?"

She thought about it for a few seconds, realizing that taking this guy's digits was a bad fucking idea. But the look on his face, the kind nature to his tone when he set his mind to it, and the way that he was just so hot...