Echoes of Our Rebellious Youth (All Time Low fanfiction | Alex Gaskarth)

Chapter 12: The Step We Took the Night Before

Alex's POV:

I turn around after I wake up, wrapping an arm around the person next to me and nuzzling my nose into their shoulder. While I am at my own house, I'm not in my own room. Instead, I spent the night down in the guest bedroom.

A hand lightly brushes over my forearm and I press a kiss to the bare skin in front of me. Although the sun has risen just like any other morning, it sure doesn't feel like just any other morning. Mickey turns around in my embrace and we come face to face with each other.

"Morning," I whisper, my voice still raspy with sleep.

"Morning," she responds, her voice even quieter than mine.

I smile at her and take advantage of the step we took the night before by pressing my lips to hers. She kisses me back and I feel my heart flutter. When we pull away, we take a moment just to look at each other – to feel what we had given in to. Her hand gently comes up to my face and her fingers trace the contours. I don't mind the touch one bit. So much so, that I actually feel cold when she drops it.

"Do you have the ingredients for pancakes upstairs?" She asks as she rolls onto her back.

"I don't know." I prop myself up on my elbow and look down at her. "Probably. We can have a look."

"We can make those then."

She pushes up to kiss me another time and eases out of the bed. I can't take my eyes off her as she bends over to pick up her panties and a shirt. Every tattoo on her skin still compliments her like they used to. There aren't many new ones since we last saw each other in such a vulnerable position, but I still remember the one she used to call her favourite.

My eyes continue to trail her as she slips into the bathroom, leaving me alone for a moment. All I can do is smile, highly aware of what happened. It nearly sounds too good to be true – but it is true. The grin is permanently on my face as I get out of bed as well to get ready.

I put on my boxers first and scan the room to find the rest of the clothes I had discarded. My jeans are close by, but I quickly realise that the shirt Mickey picked up was mine, leaving me in my boxers. I can only smirk at the thought and it's quickly confirmed when she exits the bathroom wearing it. It was one of my favourite shirts already, but now on her body it definitely is.

She walks over to the dresser containing her clothes and opens a drawer. I sneak up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling myself into her. It feels like everything finally belongs with her in my arms. I press a kiss to the top of her head as she takes out a pair of shorts and puts them on, making me release my grip.

To my surprise, she takes hold of my hand and starts pulling me along with her, out of her room and up the stairs. Once we reach the kitchen, she lets go and opens the fridge. I don't care what she does, as long as I'm close to her. I want to hold her, hug her, kiss her, and make up for all the lost time. This isn't a simple hookup. I'm all in.

She takes out the milk and eggs and swiftly moves over to a cupboard to retrieve flour, sugar, and baking powder as well. With all the ingredients on the kitchen island, I grab a mixing bowl and mixer so we can get started.

"What ratio do you use?" I ask, already opening the flower. "Because I–"

But she slaps my hand away. "Don't touch my pancake mix."

I raise my eyebrows and look at her with amusement. Back in high school, she was certain she couldn't cook and would never be able to learn. Now, though, she has already made us some phenomenal meals. I hate the circumstances under which those skills developed, but I can't say I hate this Mickey.