❀ J U L I A ❀
"Did you just say that you missed the feel of his hand in yours?" Rachel's disbelieving voice blared from the cellphone that was currently tucked in between my ear and shoulder. I had called her in a panic over what to wear to the barbecue after explaining everything that had occurred since she left, and of course, that included every thought I'd ever had while I was with Ashton.
"I don't know, I mean, his hand was really warm and it just- it felt nice okay?" I blurted out, not knowing how to describe it.
There was silence on the other end of the line and I frowned, pulling the phone away from my ear to make sure that Rachel hadn't hung up on me. However, the screen still showed that I was connected to a call with Cash $$$ (Rach).
"Hello?" I spoke again.
"Julia," she spoke sombrely, sounding like she was about to deliver my death sentence. "I'm afraid that you've become a walking cliche."
I rolled my eyes at her dramatics, continuing to shift through the hangers in my closet. "I am not a walking- can we just get back to what I'm going to wear?"
"No, literally." she continued. "Next thing you know, you're going to be describing his eyes like deep pools of- what colour did you say his eyes were?"
"Hazel." I replied without missing a beat.
"Yeah, deep pools of hypnotizing hazel. But no, you aren't going to just think of them as hazel. It has to be some poetic, Shakespearean thing, like deep pools of hypnotizing caramel. I mean, who the fuck describes eyes as caramel, am I going to poke your eyes out and drizzle them on my popcorn?"
A laugh slipped out of my lips at Rachel's passionate rant.
"Okay, so let's talk about what you're wearing." she said.
I closed my eyes in relief that she had finally dropped the topic of Ashton before snapping them open. I had no idea what to wear, and he would be coming any minute.
"Rachel, there's literally nothing in my closet. What are you supposed to wear to a barbecue, let alone a barbecue with Ashton Irwin? Do people even have barbecues anymore? Where did that name even come from?" My voice became higher and higher as I rambled, a hint of hysteria seeping through. "Do I wear jeans, do I wear a dress, do I wear shorts-"
"Julia, calm down." Rachel spoke sternly. "Just wear the black maxi skirt I got you for your birthday and the floral white camisole. Problem solved."
I took a deep breath and immediately scanned my closet for the clothing, putting Rachel on speaker phone to change. Her ability to memorize every piece of clothing I owned both scared and fascinated me at the same time. In situations like these however, it definitely came in handy.
"How's it look?" she asked, as I examined myself in the mirror on the back of my door.
"It actually looks ama-" A knock interrupted me, and I frantically poked my head out of my room to look at the front door.
"Crap, Rachel that's probably him!" I panicked, glancing at the clock on my bedside table. "He's a little early, I wasn't expecting him yet. My makeup isn't ready, I dont know what to do, what do I do?"
"It's okay Julia, just forget the makeup, let your natural beauty shine through and answer the door," she replied soothingly.
"Do I leave you on the line, or do you want me to call you back, or-"
"Julia, just answer the damn door!" she snapped.
"Fine, fine..." I muttered, quickly ending the call.
YOU ARE READING
stutter » a. irwin
Fanfiction[one] in which a drummer and a songwriter find common interest in a coffee shop - along with something more that neither of them could have ever expected.
