It's Classy, Not Classic.

Untangled myself from Frank before I could pass out and fall asleep, he groaned and made a tired whining noise of objection, burying his face into one of the pillows on the large bed. I rolled my eyes at him once I was knelt on the floor beside the bed, awkwardly feeling around the floor in the dark, looking for my underwear and clothing. I was exhausted myself, obviously, but we couldn't spend the night here -- regardless of how many people were passed out downstairs. It sounded like there were still quite a few people downstairs, too, and the music was still blaring, muffled because apparently the walls were actually thick. Evidently this bedroom was most likely the parents bedroom, and unfortunately for them we'd just had sex in their bed -- which they probably won't be too happy about, but it's not like we're going to tell the daughter. That'd be awkward, and anyway, the parents will probably wash the sheets once they realize how they stink of sweat and sex -- of course then they'll assume their daughter either had sex in their bed or threw a party and rowdy teenagers had, and it'll be all our fault for getting her in trouble. Not exactly like I cared or anything, but that's just the basic reality of the situation that'll probably play out when they return home. Anyway, I found my underwear and bra pretty quickly and pulled them on before continuing on my search around the floor for the remains of my clothing, which I'm hoping wouldn't be too much of a task. I was too tired to do any actual work, or hard looking, and I definitely wasn't in the mood for playing hide and go seek with my clothes. Not exactly the time for it right now, is it?
I found my black and white striped shirt and smiled a bit as if it were some great achievement, quickly pulling it on over my head and tugging the long sleeves down my arms, then continued to crawl around the floor in search for my jeans and belt. When I did manage to find my jeans and belt it was probably about five minutes later, and I hopped up onto my feet and tugged the jeans onto my jeans and did up the zipper and button, buckling my belt and smiling crookedly to myself, gaze lifting and looking at Frank who was still passed out in bed, naked but covered by the blankets from the waist down conveniently. My shoulders slumped over slightly and I sighed -- because now I had to get Frank out of bed, and considering how tough it was to get him to school today, it wouldn't be very much fun. For me, atleast.
I shuffled over and crawled onto the bed, coming across his black hoodie, and I grabbed it and pulled it on, because now I felt freezing for some reason -- crazy fucking temperature changes. I sat down beside Frank on the bed near his head, his face snuggled into the pillow and hiding, and I sighed at him again, nudging him and giving him a push. He gave a loud, muffled groan and shifted in discomfort, tired and telling me to leave him be. "Frank," I murmured with a whiny tone back at him, "You have to get up. We've got to leave." There was no response for a moment, until he shifted his head and sighed, looking up at me, a small smile taking its place on his lips. Thats when the butterflies attacked my stomach -- a feeling I'd never experienced, even from Frank, until now atleast. He gave a tired sigh and moved closer, resting his head in my lap and looking up at me.
"You're so pretty." He whispered, and my face pinkened, chest fluttering and butterflies becoming more violent, continuing their rampage in my gut.
"Just... get dressed. Okay?" I mumbled, staring down at him shyly, trying to change the subject. He giggled lowly at my response and sat up, turning to me and pulling me into him, placing a kiss on my lips and leaving a tingling sensation there. He let go and wrapped the sheets around his hips, sighing and getting up from the bed, running his hand back through his hair. I leaned over, flicking on the end table lamp, feeling suddenly stupid -- because why didn't I just do that in the first place when I was looking for my clothes? What an idiot I am.
Frank had his jeans on in a second, done up and belt buckled, and after he'd pulled his shirt on over his head, pulling the sleeves of his black long sleeved shirt down his arms he chuckled at me, stretching slightly and smiling lazily. "Alright babes, lets go." He simpered contently and I rolled my eyes at him playfully, hopping up off of the bed and flicking off the light, Franks hand grabbing mine to pull me with him out of the large bedroom. He peeked out the door to see if anyone was around before we stepped out into the hallway and I shut the bedroom door behind us. We walked downstairs, trying to seem as casual as possible, and fortunately no one seemed to care or notice at all that we'd just returned downstairs. We didn't get any odd looks as we left the booming house, and I fell into another fit of giggles, because everyone was evidently too intoxicated to care about anything. Especially the random couples making out here and there throughout the crowded house, which almost made me puke up my own insides actually -- because said couples were a little too rowdy, probably getting more frisky then a couple should in public. Frank snickered quietly at that fact too, and we both slipped into his car. I was sober now, but the ecstasy still had a slight effect -- to add to that, I was in some sort of sex daze.
"I love New Jersey." I concluded aloud, giggling quietly as I stared out the window into the dark streets while we drived.
"So I have changed your mind, then." Frank grinned victoriously and I rolled my eyes, propping an elbow up on the armrest and resting my jaw in the palm of my hand, resting my head against the window slightly.
"I suppose you have." I rejoindered, "But only because the people here are crazy -- it kind of reminds me of Toronto. 'Cept Toronto isn't as dangerous. I probably haven't seen the real parts of Jersey, though."
"And believe me, you don't want to either." He replied, shaking his head slightly while he drived and stared out the front windshield, "Jersey is fucked up -- and it'll fuck you up if you don't make smart decisions. I won't be showing you the whole lot of Jersey, either, because I wouldn't risk your safety for a tour -- only a damned fool would do that. Smart decisions, remember."
"It's fine." I shrugged carelessly, giving a small laugh at his words, smiling through the car door window my head was resting against, "I won't be needing to see any more parts, anyway."
"Oh?" He retorted in wonder, chuckling softly in curiousity, "And why's that?"
"Because I've already found my favourite thing about New Jersey."
"And what might that be?" He questioned, taking one brief glance over at me before his eyes returned to the road, driving as a silence fell between us for a few quick seconds.
A smile appeared on my lips again, my chest warming up with a happiness as my lips formed my simple reply, "You."