Stop

Peyton’s withdrawals were probably one of the scariest things I’ve ever witnessed. I was always scared that he’d just die in my arms, but that never happened which I’m thankful for.

After the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into a month, the symptoms came up less and less and got better and better until they stopped coming. I was thrilled whenever Peyton went an entire week without going through a single withdrawal.

I guess in a way I was happy about the withdrawal symptoms as well, because it told me that Peyton wasn’t touching the drugs or the alcohol. But still…it was frightening and sometimes I just wanted to tell him to go get some heroine and shove it in his arm, but that never happened.

Now, it has been two months since we’ve been dating and this was the first time Peyton has ever asked me something like this…

“Are you…serious?”

“No, I’m fucking joking. Yes I’m serious.”

“Well you don’t have to be so bitchy about it,” I pouted. “I was just making sure I wasn’t losing my mind.”

“What’s so weird about me asking you out on a date?” Peyton asks, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Um…everything,” I answer. That should be obvious. Peyton wanting to do anything nice for me is strange. I can hardly get him to hold my hand in public, let alone take me out on a date.

Hell, the only thing he likes to do with me in front of other people is talk. It’s as if he doesn’t like other people knowing that he actually likes someone. I guess that’d be a weakness and to Peyton someone knowing his weakness is the worst thing in the world.

“What’s the catch?” I ask curiously. There has to be a catch, there always is.

“There isn’t one,” Peyton says, his hands squeezing his ankles lightly while he sat on my bed Indian style. I watch as his eyes stare at his fingers and I noticed the way he was chewing on his lip ring nervously. “I just thought…you’d like to.”

“So…you’re doing it for me?”

“Yes.”

The sound of Peyton’s shout echoed through out my house. I laughed as I squeezed my boyfriend who I just tackled. Peyton growled when I placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “You’re growing up so fast Peyton! You’re finally learning how a relationship works!”

“You’re a dumb ass.”

“You like it.”

“Fuck you.”

I chuckled, “You wish.”

Peyton smirked before rolling me off him and ordering me to get ready. I whine, but do as I’m told since it was a Saturday morning I didn’t get ready at all. I didn’t expect Peyton to come over and ask me to the movies, which is why I’m still in boxers and a plain tee.

Peyton left the room, probably to go sit down stairs and watch some TV. I roamed around my room, looking for something acceptable to wear.

I growled when I realized I was acting like such a girl, and it was all Peyton’s fault. Growling, I grab some skinny jeans that I knew looked good on me along with a nice shirt before stalking into the bathroom where I attempt to make myself look decent without screaming ‘I’m just making myself look nice because I’m going on a date with you.’ That would make Peyton’s ego go out the window…

I really don’t want that.

When I finished I walked downstairs to see Peyton doing exactly what I thought he’d do. Watch TV.

“You take longer then a girl,” Peyton complained, moving off the couch to walk over to me.

“Shut up, it’s not everyday you decide to take me on a date…oh wait, I forgot, you never take me on a date.”

“Are you saying that you want me to take you out more often?”

“No, but I’m implying it.”

Peyton rolls his eyes, but the smirk on his face was hard to miss. He reached out to wrap his arm around my waist and pull me against his chest. The heat rose in my cheeks and I knew I was blushing when Peyton leaned in to whisper, “And what exactly would I get in return?”

“A happy Scout?” I smiled goofily.

“Mm…not good enough. I want something more pleasuring.”

Saying that my cheeks caught fire would be an understatement. I felt something stick in my throat, hardly letting any air in or out. I could only imagine what was going through Peyton’s mind…I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know actually…

“Um…I uh…er…you’d get…a make out session?” I squeaked, because I knew that if that happened it’d turn into something else real fast that would be more “pleasuring” as Peyton put it.

Peyton chuckled, his lips connecting with mine quickly before he pulled away and shrugged, “I guess I’ll have to take that. Now lets go.”