Oliver Sykes

I strolled in, the instant smell of medicine and disinfectant flooding my senses, making my head seem a little light headed. My eyes rolled around in my head, doing circles over themselves. Maybe coming here wasn't such a good thing, I did beg Lee to leave me alone.
My feet forced out in front of me, dragging my light-headed body through the corridors, losing Curtis’ figure before I even rounded the first corner.
“Rory?”
I spun around, not sure if I should have done that, as my head began to spin, stirring the world like a marble soup. Colours fizzed in the irises of my eyes, like small firework, only this felt horrible, bile rising in my throat.
“Yeh Don't look so good?” he pondered, whipping me around again. Enough with the spinning. He gripped one hand as he tugged me through the corridors, hurriedly pushing past aching patients, load groans erupted as he closed the emergency doors behind me. His face near my ear, his breath creeping over my face was the only sign that he was still with me. His cologne replacing the aweful smell of the hospital.
“I Don't feel so good.” I flimsily placed my hand over my forehead, tilting on my toes. He wrapped an arm around my waist, stabilizing me to the wall.
“Yeh need to sit down?”
“No, I need to fucking fly around naked, of course I need to sit down.” I spat, clenching my eyes shut. The lights hurt to much, making swirls appear in my vision. He scoffed, shoving me backwards. My calves hit a chair, gravity carrying me backwards. My hands flew to the sides, gripping it to make sure I didn't bounce out of the chair.
“I wouldn’t min’ if yeh flu’ ‘round neked.” he chuckled, kneeling down in front of me, his hands exquisitely rubbing my thighs, giving them a slight squeeze.
I sighed, my bottom lip quivering against my top lip. “Shut up.”
He exhaled a small laugh, his breath breezing over the top of my hands. The sound of material against the floor was the only indication that he was moving.
“Want to tell me why you couldn’t stand up for me?”
He loudly exhaled again, as if he didn't want to answer the question.
“ ‘Es meh brudda.”
I slacked in my seat, a vein splitting away from my heart, inching in further into the pit of my stomach.
“And I’m not as important?”
“Of cors’ yeh ‘re. Don't be like this.”
My blood boiled over. “Be like what, Tom? Be offended by your actions!” I started, my eyes flying open in wrath. Bad move, my brain stirred, sending awful aches throughout my head, aching at the back of my eyes. I slapped my forehead, not making it any better. I took a deep breath, calming down. “Because you know, you didn't defend me, couldn’t tell Oliver that he was hurting my feelings. And here I was thinking that you were kind.”
“I am kind!” Tom shot to his defence, rubbing my legs.
“Dont touch me.” I spat, twisting my face in another direction, the light becoming dimmer. I tried to open my eyes, the swirls coming back, but dulling away as I adjusted to the light. Tom hung his head, his nest of hair shaking with his motions.
“Ror-”
“Dont.” I paused. “You let your brother talk shit to me, you never stopped him. Now tell me, have I ever let any of my relatives abuse the fuck out of you?”
“This is different.”
I scoffed. “How is this different, Tom? You stood by and watched me break down, you did nothing, do you know how that feels?”
Before Tom could react, I shot back at him. “Dont answer that, I know you’ve never felt agony, you never have to. Your a Sykes boy.”
“Wha’s tha suppos’d ta mean?”
I pushed him away, blinking a few times to get use to the light, the swirls becoming stronger. My brain felt as though it was smashing against the inside of my skull, making a party of its own. The same feeling as Swimming without water, your uncomfortably lying on your stomach, on the ground.
“When was the last time you were abused by a girl? The last time Oliver abused you.”
Tom shrugged, his mouth gaping open a few times, but having nothing to say made him close it. I smirked, crossing my arms over my chest and grumpily huffing.
“You have never, because Oliver feels to good about you, and a girl has never had the guts to stand up to you, all because they all know that they mean nothing to you.”
Tom fell silent, his plump face falling. His eyes averted to the ground, a hint of tears lining the outsides. To be honest, my heart was leaping out of my chest, beating harshly against my lungs, cutting off my oxygen supply. I choked back a cough, if I was to cough, the eruption would have forced tears out. Tom slowly stood, dangling his head down, his hands falling to his side. His face was flushed of all colour, his eyes plastered to the ground. Not even a quick glance up to me. Nothing.
I had hit a nerve, or at least, done some damage. His face was a mere give away, his body language was another story. He picked himself up, pity wracking his body. He began to quiver with sobs, his loose hands flying up to his eyes, covering my view of his baby blues, his lovely eyes that enhanced the feelings in mine.
I had ruined them. I ruined him. I was becoming as low as Oliver.
Guilt ran right through my body, shutting down my train of through, and playing with my emotions. My face lacked expression, realisation hitting me. The realisation that I had ruined Thomas Sykes becoming unbearable. I wouldn't wish this upon Oliver, let alone Tom. I fingered the material of my shirt, weaving it between my knuckles. Tom turned away, forcing himself to move, like he didn't want to but he had to. His feet shuffled along the floor, not even attempting to lift themselves off the ground. I hung my head, tears falling through my barriers, slowly wetting my cheeks. From the bottom of my vision, I watched the blobs of water move down my cheeks, more tears frizzing my vision. The uncomfortable sensation of wetness beginning at the bottom of my nose. With the material of my sleeve, I wiped away excess body fluids from my nose, letting loud sobs overtake my body.
The pitter-patter of feet coming closer, echoing in my ears.
I didn't glance up, I didn't need to. Their strong arms enveloped me, the familiar warmth blanketing my body. I buried my face into the crook of his neck, his arms lifting me from the seat, switching positions.
“I kno’ yeh didn't mean it.” he tucked away a piece of hair, pressing his warm lips to my cheek, letting them linger their for a while. He pulled away, watching the colour race to the spot of his kiss, as if my blood was attracted to his touch. His fingers crawled around my waist, my jutting hip bones being massaged by his delicate touches. I buried my head into his chest, gripping his shirt between my fingers, sobbing loudly into his chest. His hands brushed along the contours of my back, leaving goosebumps wherever he went. I sighed into his touch, feeling my self control slip from my grasp. Melting into his embrace, my fingers lessened the grip, splaying out on his chest. His hands stopped in the middle of my back, his fingers kneading the flesh of my back, from above the shirt. He kissed my crown, his heated embrace wrapped around me again.
And I wouldn't change anything for the world.
This boy was going to be the end of me.
Kiss me through the phone
“Tom...” I started, moving in his lap. He helped me become more comfortable, his hands moving from my back to sit under my buttocks. He tilted his head to the side, the lights catching the wonderful colours in his eyes, reflecting a rainbow. His lips tugged into a smile, not forced, genuine. He made my heart soar, made my blood pump wildly through my veins. Fuck the butterflies, I was having birds flying around in my stomach. He pursed his lips together, looking genuinely concerned.
“I love you, please Don't forget that.” I mumbled, glancing down at the mess I had made of his shirt. His tender touches continued up to my face, his fingers crawling along my jaw line, finishing his massaging with a few taps on my cheeks. He wrapped one hand around my neck, twirling the ends of my hair with one hand, while the other placed itself on my cheek, thumbs tenderly rubbing over my cheek.
He didn't answer, He didn't need to.
He applied pressure to the back of my neck, forcing my lips into a bruising kiss, my hands plastered to the wall on each side of his head. I moaned into the kiss, attempting to creep closer to his body, but body can only be so close. Our hips mashed together, harshly, sparks should have been flying. Tom’s hands worked their way down to my hips, controlling them quickly, his hips bucking against mine. He broke away from me, a string of saliva attached to both our lips. With a few deep breaths, we were back into another heavy kiss, our lips mashing together. Tom moved my hips against his own, becoming aroused by our actions. He groaned, shrinking back into the seat, melting away underneath me.
“Guys, not ‘ere.” Someone sighed, tapping my back as they walked past, not taking another glance back. Our lips separated with a loud ‘pop’, our breathing laboured. Tom smirked, thrusting his hips against mine. His intentions obvious to anyone, even when I turned to look over my shoulder, we hadn't noticed the audience we had achieved. My eyes widened and I leapt from Tom’s lap, straightening out my shirt and dusting down my pants. When Tom glared at me, furrowing his brow, I motioned over my shoulder. His eyes growing wide once he realised the audience. He looked back at me, winking seductively.
“Wha’ would yeh say about voyerism?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You mean, have sex in front of all of these people?”
He hurriedly nodded, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, resembling something like a happy-dog. I shook my head. “I Don't think so.”
Tom frowned. “Tha’s okay, I kno’ I gotta sex yeh sometime.”
I rolled my eyes. “You sound sure.”
“Of cor’s I am, yeh can only resist me fer so long.” he winked again, jumping to his feet and giving my buttocks a light tap, slipping his hands into my back pockets. He heaved me into his chest, his face inches from mine.
“ ‘Ow ‘bout sex, standin’ up?”
I exhaled loudly, beating a fist against his chest. “Keep it in your pants.”
He pressed his lips to mine, starting another passionate kiss.
“GUYS!” Curtis shrieked, pushing an arm up, blocking his view of us. Tom groaned, stamping his foot.
“Yeh might as well live in me fecking pants, i’m tryin’ to get laid ‘ere.”
Curtis rolled his eyes, lowering his arm. “No luck, eh?”
Tom nodded, pressing a quick kiss to my lips, my toes lifting me to his height. Curtis coughed loudly, we were getting to heated again.
“Sorreh.”
“I Don't want to see junior Tom’s being made.”
I laughed, turning to Curtis. “What about little Rory’s?”
He winced, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “Wha’s tha difference?” he walked away, pushing past us.
Tom leant in, his breath tickling my neck. “ ‘E just wants to see us goin’ at it like rabbits.”