English Rose - liam gallagher fic

13. stylish kids in the riot

I woke up in my own bed with a strange hairy arm over my waist. I chuckled to myself.

Fuck sake, I've fucked it I thought, as I pulled the covers up over my bare shoulders.

I knew exactly who it was I'd slept with, I didn't get that drunk last night. It just took me a while to readjust from my slumber.

The clock on my bedside table read 9:00 and I panicked. Slowly, I tried to remove Graham's arm from my waist without waking him, and of course, I failed as I felt him stirring.

His arm briefly tightened around me before removing it as he woke.

"Alright mate?" I asked, putting on a t-shirt and some clean underwear.

I had work in an hour and I was probably going to be late.

"Morning," Graham said, rubbing his eyes with one hand and itching his chest with the other. He also then stood up to put his baggy striped tshirt and jeans back on from the previous night.

"My lift for work is coming at twenty to, so I'm really sorry that I'm rushing you out," I said, with him running downstairs behind me.

"It's fine," he laughed, ruffling his hair. "I have to meet the boys in a bit though, do you know how I could get back into the town?"

"Don't stress yourself, right," I said, brushing my hair rapidly with the hairbrush that was on the kitchen worktop. "You can get in my lift and we'll drop you off."

"Thanks," he said, with a small grin.

"Do you want owt? A brew or somet?" I asked him, finally sitting down on the couch in the living room with my legs crossed, and he sat down next to me:

"No, no I'm fine," he said, "I suppose I've already taken advantage of your hospitality."

I remembered that he was 22 - as he had told me last night. I know that was essentially nothing, as I was 19 and technically an adult. It shouldn't have mattered to me anyway, he wasn't the oldest person I've been with. I think I just expected him to be slightly closer to my age - he only looked like 20 or something.

"Where do you work?" He asked, making small talk as the post one night stand awkwardness ensued.

"My dad's record shop in town," I told him, and he nodded.

"So you're not full time with that modelling thing?"

I shook my head.

"My first job with it's today," I told him, "finishing early at the shop so that I can go down to do the thing."

"So specific," he chuckled.

"I've only just started," I defended myself, with a laugh. "The terminology's distant."

He was still fit. I kept finding myself sneaking glances at him and having visions of the previous night.

"Sorry, erm," he said softly, followed by him laughing over his smirk, "you've got something on your neck."

"Swear down if I have to face my dad with a fucking love bite," I said, rolling my eyes at him and standing up to look in a mirror.

"Fucking hell!" I exclaimed at the sight of the purple mark on my collarbone, peaking out of the neckline of the t-shirt. I looked down the collar of my shirt and blushed when I seen them on my boobs as well.

"Cheers Graham," I said, sitting back down with a sigh and trying to move my hair so that it covered it. "Twat. They're all over."

He sat there, proper belly laughing at himself and he apologised through his chuckles, "I'm sorry. That's gonna be embarrassing for you."

"Fuck," I realised, "I have to get my BASTARD pictures taken with a load of fucking tramp stamps all over me."

"I'm really sorry," he said as his laughter died down and he breathed out through his nose.

Graham put his hand over the back of the couch as I slumped down into the back of it, stretching my legs out where surprise, surprise lied more love bites.

I looked up at him and grinned and gestured down at my legs, showcasing the rest of his marks. He blushed and smiled.

"I had fun though," he laughed, ruffling the front of his hair again.

"Same," I nodded.

"Would definitely visit again," he joked.

"Yeah, but next time maybe not the day before I have work," I said, raising my eyebrows at him.

-

I sat in the back seat with Graham so it wasn't as awkward for him as Morgan and I dropped him off at a hostel where the rest of the band were putting their stuff into a van.

Morgan immediately picked up on the huge purple love bite on my neck, as she spied us in the rearview mirror. She straight away made a sarcastic comment to him: "Christ, were you hungry mate?"

He just laughed and blushed, and I brushed my hair around to cover it.

"What's your dad gonna say, babe?" She asked me.

"He'll probably just call me a slag," I laughed. "We're lucky are mam wasn't in she'd've had our life taking the piss."

"Swear down," she said, "My Mam would give me a good hiding if I came home with that on my neck."

"Fuck sake, you should see my legs," I said, and Graham scratched his neck shyly.

We pulled up slightly up the road from where his band were stood, mainly due to the lack of parking spaces along that road. He unclipped his seatbelt and turned for the door handle.

"I'll see you then," he said with a grin, kissing my cheek slightly.

"Bye mate," I said, mirroring his smile as he got out of the car.

"You are the only person in existence to call someone mate after sleeping with them," Morgan laughed, as I crawl through to the passenger seat. "He was cute, how did you pull him? And what happened to Finn?"

"I bumped into him yesterday morning, and then I went to his gig and he caught me afterwards and offered to buy me a drink," I explained, clipping my seatbelt in as she jerked the car to a halt at a sudden red light.

"As for Finn," I quirked my eyebrow at the mention of that dickhead. "He asked me to be his girlfriend on Saturday and by Monday he was shagging Bella Jackson."

"What a cunt! I thought he was dead nice," Morgan exclaimed, slamming a hand down on the steering wheel. "Are you gonna see that lad again then?"

"Probably not," I chuckled. "He's in a band and lives in London."