masquerade ≠ ethan dolan

fourteen

And she's immediately leaving to check Twitter, hoping it was just her who noticed, but it wasn't. The dumbass.

"Oh my god," she sighed, rushing back to the living room where he sat curled up in a ball. "E, did you happen to watch your story back before you posted it?"

"Hm?" He hums, already trying to pull her onto his lap. "You follow me on Instagram?"

Clover is rolling her eyes, sitting down next to him and pulling out her phone. He recorded it in kind of a dark room, but with the brightness up it was very visible.

"Yeah, that's not important," she says, pointing at the dark hickey on his throat in the video. "For someone who tries to keep relationships private, you sure are bad at it. If you type in your name on Twitter, hickey comes up after it."

"Fuck," he huffs, throwing his head back. "I forgot about it."

People could kind of guess he'd been seeing someone lately, after those pictures of the two of them there's been a lot of talk about it. He was noticeably sad when they weren't talking. Now, the hickey on his neck kind of sealed the deal.

Most fans just wanted to know who he was seeing, but he didn't want to-and couldn't-really say it was Clover. So for now, they'd just keep theorizing.

"E!" Grayson shouts, coming to find them. "Have you checked Twitter?"

"Yeah," he sighs, shrugging. "I honestly can't be bothered to care anymore. It's whatever, they don't know who she is."

"Alright, bro. If you and Clover are cool with it. But if you keep getting caught like this, you're gonna have to say something eventually," Grayson tells him. "I'm heading out for a bit, I'll be home later."

The two of them waved as Grayson left, and at the sound of the door closing, immediately connect their lips. He smiles into the kiss, although does miss the taste of her lipgloss she isn't wearing today.

They really needed to talk, and right now would probably be a good time to do it. But neither of them wanted to.

Instead, they spend the entire afternoon, cuddled up on the couch, lazily making out and watching movies. It's just starting to get heated, Ethan pulling her onto his lap, when his phone rings.

"Clover," he whines, but she kisses down his neck, humming to herself. Ethan sighs, answering his phone. "Hey, Ma!"

Despite his very obvious hinting, Clover doesn't stop.

He bites down on his bottom lip, eyelids fluttering shut as she grinds her hips down onto him. Pulling down the collar of his hoodie, she lightly kisses the skin of his collarbones.

"Mhm-yeah, I'm fine mom. I-it's good to hear from you too. I'm starting to feel better," he says, attempting to hold Clover still. "Clover."

She giggles quietly, slipping her cold hands under his hoodie and resting them against his abdomen.

Ethan mutes himself while his mom talks. "Clover, please-shit-five minutes," Ethan begs. "I'm on the phone with my mom!"

With a slight pout, she pulls back, sitting still on his lap. He mouths a 'thank you', as he continues his conversation. Clover keeps her hands under his hoodie, though.

The call lasts longer than fives minutes, which makes sense because he hasn't called his mom too much lately. She had been worried, what with her son getting in a car accident and all.

By the time it's over, Clover is pursing her lips at him, waiting to continue. Ethan wanted nothing more.

"M'sorry," he chuckles, taking her hands in his. "What did you want me to do? It was my mom,"