Road Trip. | ✓ | [ e d i t i n g ]

Chapter Twenty-Four;;

It had been a long while since Nick had woken me up. Most mornings, I was waking him or we were waking together. Of course, all patterns must be broken.

Nick was a blur, rolling onto the bed and over on top of me, holding himself over my slumbering frame with his palms pressed into the squishy consistency of the mattress. I leaned onto my back and shoved him away, where he sprawled into the floor. Limbs fanned out around him, he sighed, " Angel, wake up."

I grumbled. He sighed, sitting up - no doubt using his wondrous stomach muscles - and drew his fingers through his hair. Then, he set his head against the bed, and cast his eyes towards the corner of the room. Somewhere, dance music floated about; I wondered if he had found the classical channel.

Much to my displeasure, I reached out and ruffled his hair, "alright, I'm up."

" Glorious!" He sprung up, grabbing my exhausted frame and pulling me to my feet. I stumbled a few steps, and he straightened me with hands on my shoulders, " I'm going to go make breakfast."

" I'll go get ready." I yawned, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. Around this time I realized Nick was already dressed. The cheeky bastard was always prepared, with his t-shirt that had a filthy peace sign set on fire, down to his rolled-once black jeans, " Where's your beanie?"

He winked, " your bag."

I rolled my eyes, to tired to catch his drift. I stumbled into his shoulder on my way back to the bedroom, but didn't make a big deal out of it seeing as he'd tease me if I did.

Closing the door behind me, I dug around for a pair of shorts and tank-top, anything to free me from this long sleeved shirt and sweats. After I was changed - lovely little tank top that hung loose on my frame and was sprinkled with stars, and a light blue pair of shorts that free my legs - I walked out and quite literally draped myself on Nick. My arms were wrapped around his waist and my head was resting on his shoulder. I could hear his smile as he spoke, his hands falling back behind him and linking behind my back, " Hey Angel."

" Arson." I mumbled back, too tired to truly form words.

He turned his head, pressing his lips to my hairline before turning around in my arms and taking my hands in his, " dance with me?"

" I suck at dancing."

He winked, " that's alright." Then he lifted me up, setting me on his boots, " trust me, you're a natural.

I rolled my eyes, but leaned into him and let him away us. Suddenly, the classical song so graciously filtering through the speaker morphed into something along the lines of... Tango.

Jesus help me.

And I was dipped. Nick suspended me above the ground and smiled; I could have sworn his teeth sparkled. Next thing I knew, we were back up and I was be spun into his chest, shoulder blades against his figure. He shuffled us to the right, before stopping and dramatically angling our arms in front of us. I flipped in his grasp, and we took big, Goliath steps to get to the other side of the van, where we switched again and started back the other direction.

" Nick!" I managed, between exasperated laughs. Each step, each swan-like swoop and twirl, was lead by Nick. His arm hooked around the small of my back, his smile practically glistening in the light coming through the windows, his soft dark locks finding their way onto his forehead. Every time he leaned us down, my eyes would trail to his lips; the shape, the faint chapped skin, the way the moved against his grin. Damn, I was losing myself.

He straightened us, my frame flush against his. His breath was minty, " Angel." He cooed, voice bloody angelic.

I could feel myself melting - waxy piles of skin folding over the cage of his arms. Disgusting: yes. Metaphoric: also yes. I'm sure Nick wouldn't enjoy his crush disintegrating in his arms, no matter how sickly romantic it is.