over a pair of black jeans, and his usual bed-hair was pushed back in attempts to be seen put-together. He greeted us with a smile lit up like a firework, but that wasn't something which caught my attention immediately.

The colour coordination between Stella and him did.

"Was this planned?" I grinned at Xavier first, because his eyebrows scrunched up when he realized what I was talking about. "The whole 'we'll not match but kinda will because nobody else would know'?"

He coughed.

Stella rolled her eyes, giving me a glare. "No. Get in, we're probably late."

"Fashionably late, as always," Xavier had managed to say before we had hopped into the car, and I already knew how much I was going to be exhausted for the rest of the night. I just hoped that seeing the rest of the guys made up for it. The ground reverberated when I stepped outside, a chilly wind breaking my trance. Cold pricked through my senses a little harsher than I would've imagined, but Stella had grabbed my arm as if I were trying to run away. Xavier waved at us, and then shouted something along the lines of have fun, but his voice got lost in the plethora of people at the entrance.

The house didn't seem too full of people, something Raymond deserved points for. The whole school was definitely not invited, but I could see people not from school scattered along the vast living room as well. I sighed, running a hand down my dress in attempts to distract myself from the overwhelming amount of people and how it bothered my peace. It's okay, I had to remind myself, breathe. None of this was fun to me, but having company helped in more ways than I could count.

Stella was waving a hand in front of me for a couple seconds now, and my cheeks were a shade darker. "Earth to Laura," she grinned bashfully, eyeing the kitchen. "I'll get you something to drink, if you want?"

Perhaps I did need a drink. Or two. Maybe I just to prove something to my mother dearest—I wasn't all too sure. And when I saw Jayden from the corner of my eye, I nodded.

She was gone in haste, and my gaze dropped in a millisecond. I hoped he didn't see me. Yet. I wasn't too sure if I was ready to face him and how he had lied. What was he doing here anyway? From what I knew and could tell, he didn't seem friends with any of the guys.

Did he not want me to know it was him? He offered me coffee, but for what? I tried to not drive myself over the edge on something not in my hands, and spotted Ciara standing across the room. She was talking to a few girl friends of hers, laughing whilst she sipped her drink. Before I could wave at her, Raymond barged in front of me, on his mouth a wide grin. "You're actually here."

"You told me to," I smiled back. "Did I really have an option?"

"I mean, nobody takes me that seriously, but I'm glad you did." While he scratched the back of his neck, Leo and Chloe had spotted us a feet away, the latter waving like it was the first time she'd seen me in months.

"Best friend," Leo attached his arm around my shoulders, barely keeping himself from crumpling down on the floor. Oh, God. "I've missed you."

My hair pulled from where his hands were on my shoulders. Putting my hair down was not an option for me for this exact reason. "Easy, bestie," I shifted his hand from my shoulder and grinned at him. "How much did you even drink?"

"Don't even mind him," Chloe seemed to huff, eyes rolling to the back of her head. "He's out of it." Xavier, very soon, stood in front of me too—and all of us were huddled in a circle together, the only thing on my mind being Evan and how he did not keep his promise. This was how he had thought of keeping me entertained?

I turned to Xavier and probed, "Hey, where's Evan?"

"Had to be somewhere," he spoke in the middle of passing Stella a drink, eyes still on her. "That's what he told me."

The disappointment was written on my face with a yellow highlighter, and he noticed it in a heartbeat, lips curling up in a smirk. "Don't worry, though, because he doesn't make promises he can't keep."

When I didn't say anything, he continued. "Should've known Prince Charming was a loser," he winked at me. "He's on the way, darling. Cheer up."

"Fuck off, Henderson."

He just laughed. Chloe had walked towards me with more drinks in hand, and had left as soon as she saw a cute guy enter the scene. I didn't mind. I was almost waiting for Evan—as bitter as that thought sounded at the back of my head—and it was disappointing that he couldn't make it, because I had planned to get home early. A part of me wanted to call up and check on him, too. But the fact that I was probably on my sixth drink with no one to check on me or drag my ass out of the kitchen—my sanity was long gone, and checking onto anything was out of reach.

And when I saw Jayden approach me from the corner of my eye, I panicked. Turned around clumsily—like that'd do the trick and make me invisible. Took another bittersweet sip. When I realized what I had just done, I wanted to actually disappear, or dig a hole in the ground and stay there.

He tapped on my shoulder, and then laughed. "Laura?"

Why am I like this? For the second that I met his eye, I forgot how we used to be so close. I used to know this guy, and I hadn't even remotely recognized him until recently. This was a part of the past that had come following me, and had finally crashed with me and my present. There was no escaping.

"Hey, Jayden."

"You look really pretty," he said, eyes dropping down for a second before he cleared his throat. I rolled my eyes. "Eyes up."

"Sorry," he gave me a stupid grin, and I was waiting for him to realize that I had realized. Maybe he couldn't tell. "You just look. . .different."

"In a good way, of course."

"And that doesn't mean that you look bad normally, I. . .it's just—"

I had to purse my lips to stop myself from laughing. "So, what you're implying is that I look bad on a regular day?"

"I absolutely never said that," his eyes widened, hands flying in the air. "I like your dress, and—I dug this hole myself, didn't I?"

"Totally," I narrowed my eyes. "And cut the chase already."

He looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

I gave him a tight-lipped smile, satire drawn all over it. "Why'd you do this? Why didn't you tell me it was you the first day we met?"

His face snapped to mine like lightening, grey eyes widening just a little before he broke into a relieved laughter. "Fucking finally."

Seriously? I gave him an incredulous look before dropping my cup on the adjacent table and jabbing his shoulder lightly. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? I freaked out every time I met you, just because you acted so strange. You look nothing like how you used you, and expected me to know it was you. Really smart of you."

As I met his eyes, we stayed still for a second, before bursting into a raging fit of laughter.

"Hey, it was actually very humorous, okay? I couldn't help it." He held a hand in defence, eyes wary. I rolled my eyes, tucking a strand of my hair and letting a second pass. This was bizarre. This is what I didn't want—something I hadn't planned to do. If I were to stick to my plans, I was supposed to ignore Jayden, or pretend like I had no idea who it was. Coming to face my past could be ghastly, and maybe this was a wrong decision. I wouldn't be surprised. I had made plenty in the past.

He cleared his throat. "How have you been?"

My throat tightened as I wandered onto the possibility of him knowing what happened. Or having an idea of. Of course, he had heard it, right? He had to. Maybe he didn't know enough. Maybe the universe was on my side, for once, and letting me have a friend back. Guilt trapped my stomach into knots.

"Hey, what happened?"

"This is crazy," I changed the subject effortlessly, smile latching onto my lips. "How long has it been? Seven years?"

There was hesitation on his face. I noticed him roll with what I had said.

"Eight, to be exact."

I stilled, pressing my hands against my satin dress to comfort my racing heart. Despite the ease of my words, my jaw seemed taut. "That's such a long time, damn. Still haven't forgiven you for not telling me you were leaving."

He looked away, palms pressed onto each other. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. It was rushed, the moving, I mean—maybe seeing you for the last time would've not been the best idea."

Then, he grinned. "But look at us now."

I rolled my eyes. I didn't seem to remember much, but from what I did, the no-shows hurt seven-year-old me immensely—during lunch time, playing tag, or even before heading home—and maybe it would've hurt more if I knew. I opened my mouth to retort with humour and bring us back to the surface, but we both spotted Chloe making her way towards us. He gave me a final smile, brushed past me, and spoke softly. "See you around, Laura."

And he was gone.

"He was cute, but his intentions weren't." She rolled a strand of her hair around her finger as Stella slid an arm around her shoulders rather harshly, making her visibly wince. "Don't worry, girl, I'll find you someone way better."

"You better."

I stayed with the girls for a while, hearing their drunk-theories and tales pop like a collection of mis happenings. I didn't have much to share, so my attention kept faltering to the other activities in the room—or in specific, someone's. While Chloe and Stella had rambled beside me, Evan Parker had entered the scene, but seemed to remain in the shadows. I caught a glimpse of him when he had first appeared, talking away to Ciara for ages, but soon disappearing. It didn't hurt how he didn't even bother looking for me, it stung—and because alcohol made me a dramatic bitch, I had to be dramatic and leave as soon as our gazes locked.

"I'm heading out for a bit for fresh air. I'll be back in fifteen. Be safe!" I stood up and smoothened my dress, eyes still meeting his.

I couldn't make it much further. He had grabbed my wrist, tugging me behind. Huffing, I steadied myself, attempting to act threatening and not fall at the same time. The familiarity in his eyes made me take a step back, but his hold onto me was too unnerving for me to move. As if that weren't enough, his gaze could freeze me where I stood anyway.

And with the way he could easily and undoubtedly distract thousands of people by merely existing, I wasn't an exception even if I tried. With a blazer draped on his arm and a white shirt rolled up to his elbows, he looked like he had dropped from an alternate universe. His hair was the same, curly ringlets tucked messily behind his ears, and on his mouth persisted a smile—the smile which could compel angels to sin.

Whilst he examined me openly, I made sure to tilt my head to the side. I knew I looked good, so there remained no reason in refusing that. "You look stunning, Laura."

"Why, thanks," my words were sharp, bitterness engulfing my mouth in a coppery aftertaste. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to get out of here."

He held my wrist again, and for a longer while—touch gentle and earnest. I couldn't shrug my hand out of the grasp. Blame games were easier than sorting my mind out, so I blamed it on the alcohol I had graciously consumed. "Not so soon," he trailed his fingers down to my palm, and the touch was planted amidst the stars. "May I have this dance?"

Asshole. The song wasn't fit for whatever dance he was hoping we'd get to do. What went through his head anyway?

"I'm not dancing with you," shook my head. "The song—"

"—will be perfect." He grinned. The song stopped, and momentarily, so did my heart. I looked at him with a glare, and then shrugged my hand out of his hold. "You have done nothing to earn this dance."

He laughed, and then extended his hand again. "Come on," he smirked, "People are watching, Edwards. Too many eyes on us. You can't say no."

Shit, I realized, people are watching. The last thing I would want to do is create a scene. This jerk. Giving him a last look, I placed my hand in his harshly—the warmth immediately acting foreign. "You're terrible," I began as he guided me to the centre, and I was sure no amount of curse I hurled at him could redeem him. "An actual asshole. And I hate you. The audacity is off the fucking charts. Fuck you."

"Geez," he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "You've got one dirty mouth."

"Shut up."

A beautiful melody floated into thin air, enrapturing us all the same before my eyes had widened in realization. They were playing One Direction. I couldn't help but laugh.

He asked the very same thing.

"Are they really playing One Direction right now?"

"Why?" I rose an eyebrow, amused, and took the opportunity to tease him. "Brings back foul memories? Don't lie—you cried when Zayn left, didn't you? You do look like a Zayn girl."

"Wept," he didn't even let a second pass. "For four days straight. And also, who isn't? That man is beautiful."

It hadn't actually dawned to me that I was actually dancing with him, or with anybody—hell, it hadn't dawned on me that I was dancing in the first place. And when I felt his fingertips brushing lightly against my skin underneath the loose satin dress, I couldn't resist the urge to squirm. "I'm extremely ticklish," I said, cheeks heating up. "Also, I can't dance."

Goodluck.

I knew I was making a mistake, because his grip tightened, and I squirmed even more. He didn't let me speak, twirling me around before uttering, "I've got you."

In more ways than one. And I hated every second of it.

He was staring at my eyes like he was getting something out of it, and the only thing I could do was to stare back. "You're mad at me."

It wasn't even a question, so I didn't bother answering. I rolled my eyes instead, and his reply was too straightforward. He didn't even hold back with the tickling, making me gasp. "Don't. Don't you dare."

"What?" His eyes feigned innocence, hands pulling me in and letting me go in a quick motion. He was purposely messing with me, even with the way he carried me around and called it dancing. "What are you talking about?"

I freed an arm and punched his shoulder. "Quit messing with me," I breathed, and then looked back up. I had no right being this calm. He had no right being this close. I was supposed to ignore him. He had no right feeling so much like home.

Perhaps I was walking on quicksand, because I slipped and latched onto him even firmer.

"Easy," he breathed, voice nothing above a whisper, right near my ear. "We wouldn't want to fall too soon," he dipped me slightly onto the ground, making me squeal. "The song has only just started."

"Does it ever drive you crazy

Just how fast the night changes?"

As if my heart wasn't already skyrocketing out of my chest due to the close proximity, he gave me one of his relaxed grins and pulled my body closer to his and didn't let go.

"You promised me that you'd not let me get bored today," I said once I noticed him quit his ways of troubling me, on his face a genuine grin.

He looked amused when he saw me doing the talking. "Well, did you?"

"Even when the night changes

It will never change me and you. . ."

By the time he had pulled me back and let our bodies sway with the music, I total forgot the context of the question. I smiled awkwardly, eyes failing to keep contact. He sighed. "How much did you drink?"

"I couldn't keep count," I said in a small voice, afraid that he'll scold me for it, but he just laughed. "That's not good. Do you want to go home?"

"Already?" I whined, eyes pleading. "No. How bad can it be?" I bemused, and my eyes wandered on his face, slowly drifting onto hands. "Can I tell you something? You need to promise that you won't be smug about it."

"Okay?" he laughed, amused, "I'll try."

The fact that I continued was a recipe for disaster. He was the main fucking ingredient. "You look nice. I like your blazer. By the way, why so fancy?"

He had a lazy grin on his face as he continued to sway me by holding my waist. "My dad called me over to one of his meetings, and I couldn't bother to change."

I hummed, fiddling with his collar. When I met his gaze, he was giving me a little smile. "You're very drunk," he said as he twirled me for maybe the last time. "Has anyone told you that your eyes are very comforting?"

The comment made me laugh, and the look on his face made me laugh some more. "Mine? Have you looked at yours? Dude, you have the prettiest shade of blue, ever."

"Dude," he mimicked me, rolling his eyes. "Yours are soothing to look at."

I didn't say anything. The song rolled to the last chorus, and his eyes were searching.

"Are you still mad at me?"

Yes, I wanted to say. Was I? Probably not. It was hard to stay mad at someone who was moonlight personified, perhaps, since heart could only be awarded as a traitor. "Kind of," I whispered, and when he pulled me into his chest for the last time, all I had in mind was his scent.

"It will never change me and you. . ."

"Then let me make it up to you."

hello! hi! this is one of my favourite chapters maybe, what do you think? anyway, i hope you're doing well, don't forget that you're golden