Gold, Guns, Girls

He shivered, feeling cool, slender fingers sliding down his bare back, tracing the knots of his spine through his flesh. She had woken up forty-five minutes ago, and rather than waking him too, she let him sleep, watching the peaceful way his body rose and collapsed with every breath he took. In this time, she had gently brushed out every tangle in his hair with her thin fingers, and counted every freckle that dotted the milky skin of his back.

He sighed contently, letting out a quiet hum of approval and she let her palm fall flat against his skin, stroking his back lightly. She giggled, for she knew his body ached from the seven hour practices he'd endured six days out of seven for the past four weeks. Wanting to please him, she sat up on her knees, and climbed over him very gently so that she was straddling his lower back. Topher mumbled something incoherent, and she ignored it, rubbing her hands together to create warmth. Gently, she placed them both on his lower back, stroking upwards firmly, but still gently, until she reached his shoulders. She giggled at the sounds he started making, rubbing his shoulders soothingly, the very same way she was taught to. "Mmm, Olivia." He murmured sleepily. "That feels nice."

"Does it?" She giggled, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the spot between his two shoulder blades. She felt him tense, then relax beneath her touch, and she grinned. "My seventh grade drama teacher was an ex-masseuse and before we started each class, we would all sit in a circle and massage the person in front of yous back."

"I wish I had known you were so good with your hands before..." Olivia watched the smirk spread on his face slowly. "Could have used them to my advantage."

"Shhh." She laughed, rolling her eyes. "You're ruining the moment."

"Oh, we were having a moment?" He snickered. "Oops."

She smacked his back playfully, and he let out a whimper, turning his head to look at her with wide, sad eyes. Olivia rolled her eyes again, continuing the soothing strokes up and down his back, feeling every single muscle in his body relax beneath her. They stayed like that for a while, until Topher felt the need to turn over so that she was no longer sitting on his back. She giggled, sliding her hands up and down his chest. His hands were on her legs, trailing his finger tips along the soft, smooth skin. She sat there in merely one of her tiny, blue lace nighties, which barely covered her matching panties. Her orange, ringlet curls were fastened into a messy knot at the nape of her neck, with a few fallen strands resting at nearly her collar bones. She didn't wear a bra, and Topher bit his lip, for he could faintly see the outline of her breasts through the thin material. He loved it when she wore things like this. They weren't pieces of lingerie by any means. In fact, they were more like something a little girl would wear before her body had started developing. They were feminine and pretty, which is why Olivia liked them, and the her pure innocence and fact that they showed off small bits of her body drove Topher crazy.

Topher turned his head to the side, and let out a long sigh. "It's eleven." He murmured, staring at the clock. "I have to leave for practice in twenty minutes."

Olivia pouted, dragging her hands down his chest. "Can't you be late today?"

"No can do, baby." He smiled sadly, reaching for both her hands. "Coach makes us to suicides until we puke when we're late."

"Oh." She sighed sadly. "Okay."

He brought both of her hands to his mouth, lightly kissing her knuckles. "I'm sorry, Olivia."

She smiled weakly, giving his hands a small squeeze. "It's okay. You'll come back here after, right?"

He smiled, looking up at her from beneath his lashes. "As long as you don't mind me using your shower the second I get here."

"I don't mind." She grinned.

"And you should join me." He smirked, trailing his finger tips up and down her thighs. She rolled her eyes at him, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on his forehead before rolling off of him. "Hey! Where are you going?" He sat up on his elbows, watching her crawl off of the bed and walk towards the door.

"I'll be in the kitchen making you some breakfast." She said sweetly, looking over her shoulder and sending him a small smile. "Meet you downstairs."

------

The window in Cameron's bedroom was directly parallel to Olivia's, giving him a full view of her home. His bed was now pushed up against the wall opposite to the window, and completely stripped of the sheets, which were sitting in a heap on the floor. He sat with his back propped up against the grayish wall, his legs bent and almost brought up to his chest and his arms resting on his knees. His hair was a disheveled mess from constantly running his hands through it, and there were dark, purple bags forming beneath his eyes from a lack of sleep. For hours, he had sat there, tossing his old and worn baseball into the air and catching it over and over again as he stared out of the window.

For days, his mind had been plagued with images of orange, ringlet curls and pale, freckled skin. He couldn't seem to get those large, doe-like green eyes out of his thoughts. In his head, he could see her heart-shaped, ruby lips as they parted, sucking in a deep breath. She was the product of his day dreams, and the reason for the large number of cold showers he had taken the past few days.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. With Valerie, Logan and his mother away, the house was silent and free of any distractions. Heather was away too, shopping in L.A or somewhere ridiculous with her mother and her aunt. All he wanted to do was forget, and Heather helped him to forget. She made him feel things that Olivia didn't. Things that were so strong that they completely overwhelmed the feelings he had for Olivia.

However, with Heather gone, those feelings came back. They ate away at him, like flesh-eating bacteria. He hadn't moved from that spot in almost twenty-four hours, because he was so consumed by thoughts of her. He had watched Topher's car pull into the driveway the night before. From his mother, he had learned that Olivia's parents were away on business, and Elliott had taken a trip with his friends to visit a few college campuses. Olivia was supposed to be completely alone for the entire weekend. Well, not anymore now that Topher was there. He made his spot there, waiting for Topher to get into his car and leave an hour or two later, but he never did. He was still there, in fact. Cameron wanted--No, needed to know what they were doing. Why he was staying the night. He was so sure that they were not at that stage in their relationship. Were they having sex? Were they doing anything sexual? Cameron couldn't picture Olivia with any boy that wasn't him.

For hours, Cameron had been immersed in his thoughts. Anger, devastation, anxiousness--All these different emotions had built up inside of him. He was almost shaking by the time that Topher left her house and got into his car. Cameron's eyes followed the black vehicle as it backed out of the driveway and made its way down their street.

It was almost as if he was on auto-pilot, the way he could barely control his movements. He had no idea as to how his muscles were working when his brain was so desperately telling them not to. He could barely believe it, as he moved quickly out of the house and across the street. He wasn't wearing shoes and his head was an absolute mess. He was in merely a tight-fitting t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts sitting very low on his hips. He usually had standards for how he had to look before he left his house, even just to see Olivia, but as of that moment, they didn't exist.

He took the gold doorknob in his large hand, twisting it and pulling the large slab of wood open. The door slammed against the frame as he kicked it shut behind him, looking around the living room for any sign of life.

"Hello?" Her muffled voice was coming from the kitchen, where he heard the legs of the chair scrape against the tiled flooring. He heard her light footsteps as she slowly, cautiously made her toward the hallway. "Topher?" He could see her large eyes peer at him from behind the door frame, hiding herself behind the wall. "Cam?" Her brow furrowed, and she moved away from the wall. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't say anything at all, which worried her some. His eyes just trailed up and down her body in the strangest way, and his almost perfect teeth pulled roughly at his bottom lip. His gaze almost resembled that of a starving animal eying a piece of meat, and it scared her.

"Cameron." She said softly, stepped closer. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

He couldn't believe that she couldn't tell. The way he was looking at her, undressing her with his eyes. The way his hands were shaking at his sides. The rather prominent bulge in the crotch of his shorts. She stood before him in merely that light blue nightie and matching panties. The same pajama set she wore to many of their sleepovers the past few years. The one that he had never really looked at before. The way it hugged her barely-there curves and all the places the flimsy lace failed to cover--It drove him absolutely insane. Again, his muscles were working without his consent, forcing him to cross the room, only stopping when Olivia's small frame was pinned between him and the wall.

She stared up at him, her glassy eyes wide with fear and confusion. "Cam?" She whispered softly, and he watched the way those rosy lips moved, licking his own hungrily. Without a second thought, his mouth crushed against hers, and he gasped at just how soft hers happened to be. It was like nothing he had ever imagined--Like nobody he had ever kissed. He could feel her tense against his body, and her small hands press flat against his chest. He could tell that, despite the fact that she did want to push him away, a part of her wanted to pull him closer. No matter how small that part happened to be, it was there, and it encouraged him to go farther.

However, it didn't take too long for the guilt to soak in, especially after he opened his eyes and looked down into her own. Her cheeks were burnt red, but not in embarrassment, and tears had begun collecting at her bottom lashes. Pulling his mouth away from hers, he watched the way her bottom lip quivered. She stared up at him, right into his eyes and even deeper, looking so utterly confused and lost because of what he did. Her child-like innocence had returned fully at that moment, and he felt a pang in his chest. "Cameron?" Her voice shook, much like her hands, and her brow furrowed. "W-why?" Her voice was so soft. So sweet. Cameron couldn't find the words to justify what he had done. He never thought that he could feel so terrible. Cameron had done a lot of shitty things to Olivia in the past, but this had to be the worst. She wasn't used to this kind of behavior. She was a rather sheltered child. Having Topher in her life was probably adjustment enough. Now, Cameron had made her confused and conflicted about what she was supposed to feel. She had no idea how she was supposed to react. Should she be mad? Hit him? Throw him out of her house? She had absolutely no idea what to do at that moment, and he could see it in her eyes.

She was lost, and it was his fault. So, he backed away from her. Staring at her longingly as he moved away, towards the door. He stopped before he fully exited the house, looking back at her a mouthing a simple, 'sorry' before shutting the door behind him.