Driven | An Adam Driver Fanfiction

Chapter Ten

Good God, does he now how to style the interior of a house. It beautiful inside, almost as pretty as the outside. I'm too afraid to touch anything in fear of breaking it or getting it dirty. The walls alone must've cost more to paint than my outfit as a whole. Not to mention of ravishing the hardwood flooring was, or the gleaming chandeliers, or the artwork hanging up all around.

"Everyone is sitting in the living room. Did you want anything to drink before we go in?" He locks eyes with me as we stop near the foot of the fantastically polished wooden stair case. I hear a burst of laughter coming from a shallow hallway.

I don't know why I agreed to this. Just kidding, of course I do. I wanted to be with Adam. But that was before I made the stern deceleration with myself. That really was the best choice though. I could probably make this work as friends. Hopefully. . .

I'm about to decline when I swallow, feeling the dryness of my esophagus. "Maybe some water. If it's not too much trouble. . ."

"Actually, it's a lot of trouble. I mean, shit, Anna Jeanne. I invite you over to my home and this is how you treat me?" He tried incredibly hard to not smile, it was obvious. It worked for a bit, making me believe that I truly did something wrong, but then the corner of his mouth inched up in a smirk. "No, it's not to much trouble. It's water, Anna Jeanne. C'mon." He motions me forward and into the kitchen. I specifically request a plastic cup just in case my inner klutz came out. I didn't want to ruin any fine china of his as it was probably expensive.

I take a few huge gulps of water just as a round of cackles fire up from the group. I can tell just by ear that there are quite a few people in the room we're heading to. Is there still time to go home? It's just five minutes away. . . Adam begins to depart from the kitchen and stride over to the noise, making my choice for me. I'll stay. I'll endure this torturous socialization in hopes of making new friends.

"There he is! Took you long enough." We're in the room for less than two seconds and already people turn their eyes towards Adam whose right by my side, hovering slightly in front of me.

"Jon, I was gone for twenty minutes," Adam explains.

This 'Jon' fellow, however, doesn't seem to hear. His gaze is focused on me. Quite obviously, I might add. He stands up from his position on a ridiculously comfy looking sofa to walk towards me with and extended hand and a smile spread across his face. "Jon Boyega, pleasure to meet you." His hand is warm against my own, which is deathly cold.

I give a small smile and gently take my hand back, placing it in my back pocket, and taking a drink from my cup. "You, too," I add.

Thankfully, the room goes back to a steady hum of conversation after my awkward introduction with Jon, who is now seated back next to a pretty brunette that looks strikingly familiar. There's quite a few people here. Maybe ten? A quick check of all the faces and I do remember seeing all of them at the dinner party that one night. Even Harrison Ford is kicked back in a leather chair talking to an extraordinarily tall blonde.

"Yo, Adam," a red-headed guy pipes up and waves Adam over to him, who leaves my side to crouch next to him.

I'm left to fend for myself as I stand just past the entryway of the gigantic living room. I felt like a dandelion amoungst a patch of tulips. I obviously didn't belong here. In an attempt to occupy myself while Adam was chatting with that ginger man, I counted the number of different colors in the room. It's a lot more boring than it sounds, believe me. Before long I had something else to turn my attention to.

"Hey, there, Goldilocks," a husky voice comes from my right.

I turn my head towards the sound and find myself gazing up at none other than Oscar Issac. I should've known he'd be here, he's part of the Star Wars squad, but I'm still slightly surpised.

"Hola," I greet back. Immediately I question myself as to why I chose to say 'hola' rather than a regular hello. "I didn't see you earlier."

"Yeah, I was taking a phone call." There was a wide open area for me to begin a new conversation with from his last remark, but I didn't feel like continuing, He did, though. "What brings you here?"

His ignorance is a bit ridiculous, but I bite my tongue to keep from being sarcastically rude. Instead of a snarky response, I say, "Adam invited me."

As if on cue, Adam stands back up and pads across the hard floor to where I wait with Oscar.

"Oscar," he greets. They both exchange tense nods, making me feel uncomfortable for them. Thankfully Oscar doesn't hang around for mine and Adam's conversation. He retreats to Jon and the pretty girl and starts in with them.

"What's up?" I ask, trying to me casual in my curiosity for what happened in his exchange with the red head.

He brings his voice down a little quieter. "So they've decided that they want to play truth or dare. You up for that?" His eye brows raise as he awaits my response.

No, I'm not. I don't want to play a game that will embarrass me for the enjoyment of other. Somehow, sharing a secret of mine or doing a lame dare given by strangers doesn't appeal to me. Call me crazy, but being shamed in front of people I don't know doesn't exactly make my to do list.

I don't quite say it that way. "Not particularly. . ."

He adds on almost immediately after I finish. "Okay, me either. Let's go do something else."

Something else is so vague. Something else could literally mean anything. Are we going to jump face first from the roof? Are we going to make the pre-made Pillsbury Halloween cookies? Are we going to paint a picture of some french girls?

His hand wraps around my upper arm as he leads me away from the giggling bunch of celebrities and into a part of the house unseen to me, which is almost all of it.