My lips stretch into a thin line as I watch [Y/N] twist her hair round her finger and giggle flirtily at some guys joke.
I take a swig of my beer, and then take a couple more. I need the alcohol to calm me down, but so far, it's not working. I still can't take my eyes off of her and I still care that she's talking to him and not me.

[Y/N] notices her cup is empty and heads towards where I'm stood in the kitchen. Maybe she's actually going to speak to me now.

"Mikey!" She chirps happily. I cross my arms over my chest and offer her a shrug in response. She hasn't exactly done anything wrong - but I'm her best friend and this shouldn't be the first time she's acknowledging my existence.
Her face creases into a frown and she stops in front of me. "What's wrong?" She questions. Her words are slower than usual - it's almost unnoticeable, but of course I realise. This is her, and I'm me. I notice everything about her.
The change in her voice means that the alcohol is taking its toll. She isn't drunk, but she's not far off either.

I shrug again and she takes a step closer to me. She leans in to examine my face, and our noses brush. "I don't know what I've done, but I know you can't stay mad at me." She says, a coy smile playing at the edges of her lips.

She's right.

Having her this close to me doesn't help. I want to pull her into me, but something tells me she doesn't want that. I'll leave the closeness to that other guy she was talking to.

"Nothing," I mutter, "go have fun."

Hiding how I feel about her is necessary. This friendship means everything to me, and I can't lose it because of my weak ass heart.

That being said, hiding my love from her takes everything from me. Which is why it's increasingly difficult to cover up the jealousy.

"Michael Clifford, tell me what's wrong this instant."

I find it difficult to repress a laugh. She's trying hard to sound "tough", but if there's one thing she's not, it's tough. She's about as tough as a marshmallow.

"Nothing, baby."

My eyes widen. I had no intention of calling her baby. It slipped out without my permission. Redness floods her cheeks but she's grinning. There's a sparkle to her eyes, leaving me feeling slightly less embarrassed. Maybe she didn't mind.

She sneaks a glance over to where the guy she was speaking to is patiently waiting for her. Anger bubbles in my veins but I do my best to compress the emotion.

"Go back over there," I mutter, making no attempt to hide the annoyance in my voice. She narrows her eyes at me and for a second I worry that she's going to ask me why I'm so annoyed.

"You just called me baby," she notes, changing the subject completely. I feel the heat rise back into my cheeks despite all my attempts to stay calm.

"Yeah," I say, hoping I sound casual, like its no big deal.

"You don't normally do that." She states. I find myself wishing she was just a little more sober. Saying that, hopefully she won't remember this in the morning.

"Sorry." I apologise, though I'm not sure whether I mean it or not.

"Don't be. I liked it." There's a smirk on her lips, and I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to say next. Just as I'm about to make some kind of comment, she opens her mouth to speak again.

"Do you wanna go get some air, Mike?"

Before I have time to answer, she takes hold of my hand and starts pulling me towards the door. I would have said yes anyway - anything to keep her away from that douchebag guy.

Her skin is hot against mine, and I can't help but savour her touch. There's something about the way her skin feels against mine that I can't quite describe. All I know is that when we're touching, I never want to stop.

The air around the house is contaminated with cigarette smoke, and it's difficult to find somewhere that people aren't lingering and taking drags from their cigarettes.

Smoking to me is normal. I do it to relax myself and take my mind off things that would otherwise devour me. But [Y/N]... I feel protective over her. I want to keep her away from danger - even if that danger is only second hand smoke.

There's another reason I'm bad for her. Although, if she was mine, I'd have no reason to smoke. I'd give the habit up in a heartbeat if it meant I could have her.

In an attempt to get her away from the poisonous air, I push her further into the front garden of the house. Her feet slowly carry her towards the front gate, but she doesn't stop there.

"C'mon Mikey!" She squeaks, and steps out of the garden.

"Where are we going?" I question, but she doesn't respond. Instead she just grabs my arm and pulls me along the street.

After a minute of dragging me by my forearm, she slides her fingers down and laces them through mine. The rush that surges through me is electric. It's unlike any other feeling, and I'll never get enough of it.

"Where are we going?" I repeat. This time she gives me an answer, even though it's not really clear.

"On an adventure!" She exclaims, and I chuckle.

"Okay," I respond, not questioning her any further.

It only takes me a few minutes to figure out where she's taking me when I take a little notice of the surroundings instead of concentrating on the feeling of her fingers in mine.

We're headed in the direction of the old shutdown swimming pool near my previous house. We spent so many hours here growing up - it's where I gave [Y/N] her first cigarette and it's where she used to run to when she was sad. The place has a lot of memories.

"Why here?" I chuckle, sitting down underneath the yellow light at the back of the building.

"I used to love coming here with you. We never come here anymore." She tells me, her voice sounding a little sad. I immediately want to cheer her up, but I don't really know how.

"I did too," I admit sheepishly, earning a small smile from [Y/N].

Her eyes are slightly hazy, and her words are dragging slightly - if I didn't know her this well I wouldn't have even noticed it. She seems more grounded than before - maybe the fresh air has sobered her up a little.

"Do you remember giving me my first cigarette here?" She wonders, grinning at me.

I chuckle and nod. "Of course I do. You nearly threw up because you weren't used to it. Then you yelled some abuse at me since I was the one who caused your pain."

[Y/N] laughs loudly, "well! It was disgusting. Although that was the worst time. Anytime I've smoked after that hasn't been nearly as bad."

"Am I a bad influence on you?"

The words have left my mouth before I can stop them. I want to know what she thinks, so I don't tell her to ignore the question, but I still feel embarrassed. I didn't want to ask.

Her pretty face creases into a frown and she leans into me a little, so that our noses are almost touching. I'm not sure what she's doing exactly, but I'm not complaining.

Our sudden closeness makes my breath get stuck in my throat. My mouth feels dry and goosebumps have erupted all over my skin - all because she's close to me. Sometimes I hate the effect this girl has on me.

"If anything you're a good influence," she says slowly, "you make me better."

The words ring around in my head. Does she mean them? That's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. I thought I made things worse, not better.

"R-really?" I stammer, my voice coming out as a hoarse whisper unintentionally.

[Y/N] doesn't reply, but her eyebrows crease together in thought as she studies my face. I wonder what she's thinking about.

Just as I'm about to repeat my question, she does something I'm not expecting.

She kisses me.

It doesn't last for nearly as long as I want it to, but it's still perfect. I keep my eyes closed for a few seconds after she pulls away, just savouring the moment and trying to remember the taste of her lips.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, causing me to open my eyes. Her cheeks are tinted red, indicating embarrassment. She has nothing to be embarrassed about.

"What for? I'm not." I say, hoping that she'll meet my eyes again.

[Y/N] looks up from her hands and I lock our eyes together immediately. Surely she'll be able to tell everything that I'm feeling from my eyes. She's always been good at reading me.

"You... You want this?" She asks, her voice still barely a whisper.

"More than anything," I reply, nodding to back up my statement.

Her eyes flutter closed as a smile forms on her lips. "Me too."

I can't stop myself from kissing her again. She's just told me that she wants me in the same way that I want her, and now all I can think about is having her lips on mine. I want to kiss her until our mouths are numb, because I can convey how much I really love her in a kiss. She'll be able to feel it.

* * *

💓15 votes=immediate update💓