People Got A Lotta Nerve

It wasn’t that weird coming home to a silent house.

However, it was weird being in a silent house all day. No flying car keys, no short shorts, and no hair bleach in the bathroom drains. In the freezer, there was no more low-carb low fat low everything frozen food, and no more roommate dinners. In fact, I didn’t even use the table anymore. It soon just became a place that collected the random odds and ends I never really noticed beforehand. It served as a safe haven for all of the grocery coupons and newspapers, for Emma’s subscriptions of Elle and Cosmopolitan magazine she apparently never cancelled, to all of the bills and warnings I was receiving. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt as though a behemoth tidal wave had come and invaded the house, washing all of the comfort and normalcy out of the house and just leaving the bare bones- the sofa I once loved was now just a place to sit, the huge collection of alcohol bottles Emma and I had been collecting now just looking like a childish and immature keeper of memories. It was sad, but I really missed Emma. Even if she had said those things to Jamie, even if I had ‘held her down’, she never gave up on me. And in her own little way, she was always there. Except for that night.

So I had just found myself sitting there, shifting uncomfortably under my laptop as I cranked out homework assignment after homework assignment, which may have helped my GPA, but not the huge hole in my chest that came from loneliness. Yeah, Oliver and I, and even the boys had talked basically every day on the phone, and on myspace, but there is nothing that compares to having a smiling, chipper roommate around just to pass the time with.

It was the day before the boys were supposed to be in town, 3 days before their promo show, and here I was, parked on the couch as usual. My laptop had inconveniently died just a few minutes earlier, so I was just sitting, remote in hand, my legs covered by an old, slightly tattered afghan I had bought when we first moved in. From my perch on the couch, I could see the house telephone sitting in its base, the ‘new message’ light flashing impatiently, waiting for me to go and tend to it. I never would, though. I was always in when they called, the bill people harassing me about my behind water bill, or how they were going to shut my lights off if I didn’t pay them ‘right now’, even though the lights had been on for a good 2 days since the threat. In a perfect world, I would be able to forgo eating for a few weeks a month, so I could be able to cover the bills. I also would probably be able to make it if my car didn’t need gas once a week, but the price was still set at $2.77 a gallon and there were no signs of gasoline prices lowering. If only I could teleport, or fly to school, bypassing all of the traffic and the parking nightmare that existed in front of San Diego State University.

Somewhere between the constant stream of commercials, and my ever so frequent space out sessions, the doorbell rang, its high pitched announcement crashing through the stale air in the living room like a lightening bolt. I threw the afghan off of me, and answered the door, in no particular hurry. I knew it couldn’t be the bill collectors; it was 10 at night, and even those people had families to be home to at this time of night.

Instead, standing there was Oliver Sykes, leaning against the same column Jamie and Emma had made out against the night they had their ice cream date. His skinny jeans clung to his legs like they were a second skin, the rip in the knee revealing his skin underneath. A little sliver of skin above his jeans was showing, his shirt riding up due to the fact that his left arm was up, carrying a small overnight bag behind his shoulder. His smile was small and sheepish, his eyes twinkling from behind his fringe.

“Got in town early.” He smiled, sticking his free hand in his pocket.

I didn’t know how to respond, just felt a huge smile plaster onto my face as I opened the door wider, welcoming him inside my empty shell of a home. He walked in, the rubber soles of his slip on vans squeaking on the linoleum.

“I love California, I never need to have a hoodie.” He remarked, setting his bag on the ground and turning towards me.

“I think it gets cold sometimes,” I walked over to the couch, grabbing the afghan again. “Nothing serious though. I just use this.”

Oliver sat down too, across the couch so even if I stretched my legs out, he would be out of reach of my toes. “That is the thinnest blanket I have ever seen.”

I smiled and nodded, before throwing it over the back of the couch again, back in its normal place.

“Emma’s been gone a while.” He looked around, his eyes scanning from top to bottom. “I remember this place being much more…alive.”

I giggled, my eyes following his as he surveyed the living room. “You were drunk, and god knows what else. Of course this place seemed cooler.”

“I guess…” His eyes relaxed, fixing themselves back on me. Of course, my ears and back of my neck soon began to feel very, very warm.

“Its just been me in here a while now…” I could feel my voice hitch over a breath of air I took in, the stutter evident. “I’m more low key than Emma.”

“For fucks sake, thank god!” He exclaimed, finally a voice breaking through the air in the room that had been stagnant for so long. It was like every time he exhaled, the breath he gave up filled the room with movement, with life.

I laughed back, the sound of our laughs together creating a harmony I hadn’t heard in way too much time. “Has she been bad on tour?”

“Don’t get me wrong, love, I love ladies, women, birds. But I don’t love a lass who wakes up every fucking soul at 6am by stomping down the bus in heels. For fucks sake! We’d just played a show the night before!” He smiled again at me after his outburst, his hair starting to feather around his neck and cheeks, as always. His hands began fidgeting in his lap, his fingers cracking softly.

“Oh, the heels.” I rolled my eyes, smiling to myself. “I certainly don’t miss those things.”

He smiled back at me, and suddenly the air in the room began to deflate; the weight of it all crashing down around us on the couch. I looked down, my own hands cracking my fingers in the same way Oliver’s were, the tiny clicks and pops of bones the only sound reverberating in the room, bouncing against the walls.

“So-“

“So-“

I blushed, and smiled at him sheepishly, in fact, I hadn’t stopped smiling since he walked in. It was a nice feeling, almost as if I was floating on a cloud above the world, just riding along on a sweet, soft surface.

He nodded at me, signaling he wanted me to talk first.

“I wasn’t expecting you early.”

“Oh….well, Matt and Curtis and them are all at a hotel, I can just go crash there if its too much trouble.”

“No, I-“ He cut me off, the smile of his coming back to full force.

“No offence love, but you look like you could use the company. I don’t remember you looking that pale.”

I blushed, crossing my legs Indian style in front of me, Oliver just a few feet away, even if it seemed like miles. “I’m happy you’re here.”

He smiled back; his cheeks tinged a slight pink color, which somehow seemed to reach right down to my heart. I could feel the chills manifest themselves up my spine, up my neck, and along the contours of my cheekbones.

The shivers got worse as I noticed him leaning forward, too, his hands holding up his weight as he leaned all the way forward, his face just inches from mine.

I thought it was going to happen; the anticipation and suspense killing me. All I wanted was to grab him by his shirt, crash his lips into mine, letting my body live out the dream I had kept in the back of my mind ever since he kissed my cheek in the Vegas diner.

Right when I thought he would do it, his lips so close to mine I could feel his breath, a mixture of chocolate and wintergreen breath mint, did he speak, not kiss.

“I feel at home when I’m close to you.”

It hardly sunk in as his lips finally reached mine, the kiss starting at the corner of my lips, where they met, his breath hot and fragrant. I could feel his long hair brush against my neck, right along the jugular, tickling. His hands reached forward, leaning on the couch, one hand on either side of my hip bones, my crossed legs parallel to his body, his knees crunched against mine. I leaned into him, my hands reaching around delicately to the sides of his head, my hands raking through his hair, right below his ears. He seemed to like it, my nails trailing slowly along his scalp, as his lips began to trace the edges of mine, taking in every curve of this body part of mine he was discovering.

The kiss deepened; I licked the inside of my lips quickly, inviting him in using the subtleties of body language. He accepted, his tongue following the trail I had just created, my jaw opening slightly to accommodate his tongue. I upturned my head, his tongue past my lips as I felt my body acclimate to his, the smell of car air freshener remnant of the tour bus he was just on, the minty taste of his breath remnant of the breath mint he had probably popped into his mouth before ringing my doorbell, just in case. I could feel my lips upturn as I imagined it, the nerves in his stomach calming as soon as I opened the door for him, just the way my heart seemed to find a way into my throat when I first saw him standing there, that smile brightening up my entire world. He smiled into the kiss as well, his arms bending at the elbows so that his body began to lay on mine, our stomachs touching, my hands still in his hair. I could feel him kick off his shoes, my legs feeling so small against his, the sheer size of his body against mine making me feel warm and protected, like I was enveloped between him and the homely crunched leather of my couch.

The shivers certainly did not go away either, the nerves in my spine racing to keep up with them as they surged through my body, my jugular vein going into double time to accommodate the sensory overload. His weight finally rested on top of me, his left hand reaching down to the hem of my tank top. I could barely notice though, his lips were still on mine, his teeth gently trapping my bottom lip and sucking gently, his tongue gliding over the surface.

His cold fingers slid under my shirt, his 4 fingers along my side as his thumb gripped right over my hipbone, my waist captive in his grip. I could feel his thumb brush lower, caressing the skin stretched over my hipbone, the shivers reacting like clockwork; I shook just a little bit too hard under his control.

He let my lip go, and pressed his forehead on my cheek, my smile now against his nose. I could feel him let a laugh out under his breath as well, his hand still familiarizing itself with my hipbone.

“You’re cold now.” He whispered into me, and I nodded slightly, the shivers not giving me up that easily. I let my left hand fall from the tangles of his hair, and drop down onto his shoulder, fleetingly trying to keep his body pressed onto mine.

As if he was mocking my attempts, he smiled into my jawbone, and lifted himself from my body, which now seemed to create a mold for itself in the couch leather.

“Come on love,” He whispered, soft and subtle, “It’s time for bed.”