Burn

Countdown to John leaving: 5 days

I was starting not to be able to focus on anything.

"Viola, you have got to chill." Garrett said, pulling me aside one day as the boys discussed some things with Tim about the upcoming tour. "You're starting to freak everyone out, especially John. I thought you'd gotten over all the anxiety about us leaving?"

"I thought I had." I shook my head, frowning. "I don't know what's wrong with me--sorry if I'm a mood-killer."

"We just all want you to be okay, okay? Stop worrying so much. Everything is gonna be fine." he smiled before rubbing my shoulder comfortingly and adding, "Besides, no one is gonna date someone who's hair is falling out because they worry too much."

I glared at him as he walked off, throwing a grin over his shoulder at me. I was upstairs to get away from all the commotion and work on the article some more. I'd been staring at the same blank page for days--every time I opened the word document to work on it, I couldn't think of a single thing to say--I was starting to worry I'd lost my mojo.

I plopped down at the desk in John's room and sat my laptop down, opening the document once more. I sighed, drumming my fingers on the table while staring at the cursor blinking methodically back at me.

"Come on, Viola. You can do this. You've been with these dudes for an eternity--how hard can it be to write a spread on them?" I murmured, frowning. I pulled my hair back absentmindedly, tying it into a tight ponytail on top of my head and swinging it back and forth across my back.

"Okay what should we start out with? Something introductory? Something funny? Eye-catching?" I murmured, pulling up my notes and staring at the screen. My stomach grumbled in protest, since I hadn't eaten that morning on account of being determined to get something out. I began thinking about the cinnamon vanilla waffles John introduced me to the other morning, and my stomach protested louder.

"I've gotta get that recipe." I mumbled, slumping back in my chair. "Hmmm...recipe..." I thought for a few more moments before going back to the blank document and finally typing something out, my fingers flying over the keyboard.

What's the recipe for a successful, best-selling band? Start with five boys in their teens, fresh out of high school. Add puberty, new haircuts and a few minor setbacks with record labels. Mix. Throw in a little experience, a dash of determination and a lot of compassion? You've got all-American rock band, The Maine. Hailing from Tempe, Arizona, a small town in the middle of--

"That's pretty good." John chuckled from behind me, making me jump. "What the hell--make some noise when you come in, why don't you? You walk like a cat!"

He tugged lightly on my ponytail, making me grin. "I was wondering where you got off to." He murmured, smiling.

"I was trying to get over writer's block." I gestured to the computer. "But someone interrupted me."

He whirled my chair around so that I was facing him. A playful smirk danced on his lips that made my pulse quicken and I licked my own lips nervously. He leaned down, resting his hands on both arms of the chair so that I was trapped. "Well why don't I distract you some more?"

"Oh, please do Mr. O'Callaghan." I grinned as he leaned down and connected our lips, lightly pushing his tongue into my mouth as he grabbed the back of my head and drew me closer. I couldn't help but melt into his touch, bringing my hands from my lap and tangling them in John's hair. Tugging lightly, I elicited a low groan from him that made goose bumps erupt on my skin. His other hand came to rest on my leg, making its way up until he began fiddling with the button on my jeans. I gasped as he fulfilled his task, popping it open and letting his hand drift across the soft skin of my lower stomach, sending a jolt of excitement through my body. I shook my head, mumbling against his lips, "John, no--I have work to do--"

He pulled away, resting his forehead on mine and breathing shallowly, still leaning over the computer chair I was seating in. I watched his pupils return to normal size and he sighed, bringing one hand up to my face and rubbing his thumb lightly across my bottom lip. I closed my eyes, focusing on the way his calloused skin felt against my cheek.

"The things you do to me, Viola Grey." I opened my eyes to see him grinning, which made me break out into one, too. "I could say the same--"

My phone began buzzing on the computer desk and I reached to get it, seeing Rose's face appear on the screen. "Hold that thought." I held up a finger to John. "Hello?"

"Hey! What's up?"

I rose out of my chair and began pacing the floor of John's room as he watched me from the door, and amused expression dancing across his face. "Nothing really, just trying to do some work. What about you?"

I watched as John shut the door softly with his foot, his eyes not leaving mine. I grinned at the playfulness of his expression as he stalked over to me slowly, reaching out his hand for mine. 'No' I mouthed to him, narrowing my eyes.

"I just called to ask was the New Year's party still on. If so, I needed to buy a new dress--none of mine scream 'New Year, New Me', you know?"

John had made his way over to me at that point, and was pushing me backwards with his hands on my hips. I shook my head harshly at him as the back of my knees hit the bed frame and I fell back with an "Oof!"

"Viola? Are you listening?" Rose questioned, and I could imagine one of her eyebrows raised in suspicion at me on the other line.

"Uh y-yeah." I stammered as John placed his hands on either side of my head, tracing my jawline with the edge of his nose in the way he knew drove me crazy. "W-what were you thinking of w-wearing?"

"Something in a holiday color--maybe red? Or silver? Oh my god--GOLD!" she exclaimed. "What do you think about gold, Viola?"

I swallowed harshly as John returned to fiddling with the open fly of my jeans, looking at me with lusty eyes. He slowly and delicately slid them down my legs, leaving a trail of feathery kisses down my thigh. "Gold is good." I squeaked as he kissed the instep of my foot and back up my now-naked legs.

"Ugh you are no help. What's going on? Is John distracting you?" she growled. "Tell him to leave you alone."

I watched John grab his shirt by the back of the neck and pull it over his head in one quick motion. He was standing over me in all his muscle-y, toned, tattooed glory--and I could barely form a proper sentence. "N-no, I mean--he's not--" I stammered as John reached up and grabbed my phone.

"Talk to you later, Rose." he said huskily, before pressing end and throwing it above my head on the bed.

My mouth dropped open. "John! You can't do that! I was talking to her--do you know how much I'm gonna have to explain later--"

"Exactly. Explain to her later. Pay attention to me now." he murmured, pulling my mouth to his hungrily.

And how was I supposed to argue with that?



I watched from the window in the kitchen as the boys launched snowballs at each other in the backyard. Garrett snuck up behind Kennedy, smashing a snowball into the back of his head before taking off and making me giggle. I was glad to have the entertainment as I washed dishes from the mess made from last night.

"What are they gonna do when I'm not here to clean up behind them?" I murmured, rinsing off a cup and setting it to dry. "It's not like they have maids."

"No, but some of us have girlfriends." Pat said, coming in the kitchen and hopping on the counter beside where I was standing. "And the one's who don't have moms."

I raised an eyebrow at him playfully. "So you live with your mom?"

"Yes." he held up a finger. "But that's only because I haven't had time to do any apartment hunting--the band keeps me busy."

I grinned. "You look like a mama's boy."

"And you are so totally right."

I turned my attention back to the backyard where John was currently laying on the ground with his arms and legs splayed out in an attempt to make a snow angel. He stood up and admired his work just as Kennedy and Garrett came barreling by, stomping all over his artwork in their high speed chase.

"I can dry." Pat offered, hopping off the counter and coming to stand beside me. I handed him a plate and we were quiet for a few moments before I asked, "How come you aren't outside?"

"I don't know. I just kind of felt like I needed some quiet time, you know?"

"I definitely know. This house can be so crazy at times."

He smirked. "Oh come on, it's not that bad is it?"

"Were you here the other day when Garrett thought it would be easier to mix brownie batter in the blender? Without the lid?"

Pat laughed, throwing his head back. "Okay, you have a point. Look there's still chocolate on the ceiling!"

I giggled, shaking my head. I washed the final utensil and rinsed it, handing it to Pat before I drained the water in the sink. "I'm really gonna miss you, Viola. I'm pretty sure we all are." he said, smiling warmly at me.

"And whatever happens, you know--" he glanced quickly towards the backyard at the guys, "the rest of us will still be here for you. Know that."

I smiled a small smile back, trying to swallow past the knot that was suddenly growing in my throat. I focused on cleaning off the counter so that I could turn away from Pat before he saw my eyes well up with tears. The boys chose that moment to burst in through the sliding glass door and I quickly wiped away the wetness before facing them and putting a forced smile on my face.

"Have fun outside?" I asked, wincing at the sound of my voice cracking. I cleared my throat before trying again. "I saw your snow angel, John."

"You did?" his face brightened for a moment before falling as he frowned. "They stomped all over it."

I giggled. "I saw that, too. Are you guys hungry?"

"Always hungry." Garrett smiled. "Why don't we go out tonight?"

"Okay, be ready in thirty?" I said, looking for their nods of approval as they dispersed to change out of their snowy clothes. "I'll go change, too."

I went to follow them out of the kitchen but John grabbed my arm, holding me back so that we were alone. "Are you okay?" he murmured, searching my eyes.

"Of course I am." I answered, smiling a tight-lipped smiled and pecking his cheek. I couldn't let him know all of this was getting to me. He needed to focus on The Maine and what was in store for them over the next few months.

"Are you sure? Everything is gonna be okay, Viola."

I was so sick of hearing that phrase that I almost groaned. I hated the way everyone looked at me with such worry in their eyes. I was gonna be fine--I knew that. It just didn't feel like it at that moment. "I know. Now go get changed."

"Yes ma'am." he answered lowly, studying me hard once more before taking off upstairs.