Depraved | H.S.

022.

Play song at the *

Making Cross jealous was Blaze's new favorite pastime. After their brief interaction yesterday, she spent all night contemplating what Archer had told her. She wanted to deny the accusation, but what if her friend was right? So, this morning she made a point to hang around Ben and Zayn. That continued most of the day up until an hour ago when they all decided to go to the club, to blow off some steam before the grand heist tomorrow.

All day she would catch glimpses of Cross's furrowed brows and clenched jaw. Sometimes his fists would be balled up at his sides and after about the fifth time, she decided Archer was definitely on to something. If he didn't like her in some form, then there would be no excuse for his cold demeanor. The revelation made her feel a tad bit giddy and she was loving every minute of getting under his skin.

The bass thumps loud within the club, the music making her own chest feel as though it's pounding. She clutches a drink in her hand, grinding her body against some random man she found on the dance floor. Cross is perched on the edge of a couch across the room–his eyes dead set on her. She can see the fire behind his eyes, but it doesn't make her nervous–no–she wants this. She needs him to finally tell her how he feels and if this is what she has to do, then she honestly doesn't care.

Archer sits next to him on the couch, whispering something in his ear. Secretly Blaze hopes he's talking Cross up to make him come talk to her, but she has no way of knowing. She had noticed the two men had become a bit closer and she was hoping Cross could find a friend in Archer, much like he had in Niall. As much as she wishes she didn't care–she does. She wants Cross to have a family, to have the happiness he's always craved. If she could be the one to take away the dark thoughts that plague his soul, then she would. Even if that meant sacrificing her own light to give some to him. They were like an eclipse, her absorbing his dark, to make him feel bright.

The man behind her grabs her waist, running his hands up her sides and she looks back to the couch to find Cross missing. Archer looks at her with a goofy grin and she shakes her head, annoyed that she's been blatantly caught looking for the muscular tattooed man.

"Hey man, you can't just–" The guy is cut off by a very annoyed Cross, shoving him to the side.

"Move on. She's mine."

Blaze's stomach flips and she tries not to smile. She's mine. She's mine. She's mine.
Spinning to face him she quirks her brow, "Last time I checked I'm no one's."

"Shut your mouth little spark. You think I liked watching him run his hands all over you? Do you think he could make you feel as good as I do? Enlighten me honey."

This is what she wants to hear but she can't help but find herself pissed off. Who does he think he is? He doesn't want her, but the minute someone else does–it's a problem? He can't admit his real feelings...but he can stake a claim on her? That isn't going to fly. He owes her at least some piece of honesty.

"Yeah, maybe he could. I wouldn't know because you ran him off." She spits, turning to walk off. Cross lets her without a fight, just like she thought he would.

She takes a seat next to Archer needing a breather. "Still wanna tell me I'm delusional?"

A laugh falls from her lips, "He came over there like a dog marking his territory. He can't admit he has feelings for me, so he has no right to be jealous. I saw you whispering in his ear dummy. What'd you tell him?"

Archer smirks, bringing his drink to his mouth. "Just told him that he'd be an absolute idiot if he let you go."

Butterflies erupt in her stomach and she tries to hide the blush underneath the neon glowing within the club.