Shit happens ✧ *:✧･ﾟ* Skins gen 2 • James Cook • Effy Stonem • Freddie McClair

9. Cook's.

It stunk of weed and aftershave in the room. It consisted of a single bed with a stuffy navy duvet on it, a red torn-out sofa with clothes all over it, a table covered in empty chip shop boxes and wrappers, a kitchen area, a random door and peculiarly, a flat-screen TV that didn't fit the rest of the room.
"It's not much but it's home," Cook said, locking the door and walking towards the kitchen sink trying to wash away the blood that was on his face.
"Oh, Cook..." I say sadly.
He looks at me, blood still on his face.
"You don't live here do you?" I mutter, looking up at the ceiling that had mould and cracks all over it.
The light then flickered.
Cook thumped the wall. It stopped flickering straight away.
"Yeah." He said.
I notice him trying to dab at his wounds with his hands.
"Sit down, I'll sort them." I say.
He sat down on his sofa, watching me as I looked around his kitchen area through nearly empty cupboards, looking for a bowl.
"Nice bum." He said as I bent over to the bottom cupboard and found what I was looking for. I yank my shirt down then shoot him a disapproving look as he holds up his hands in surrender. "And tits...." He added quietly, nodding at my top. He giggled and I couldn't help but smile quickly. But I wiped it off my face
"I saw that." He said.
I Ignore him and fill the bowl up with water and take out a loo roll from a packet, the only thing in the cupboard I found it in.
I sit on the sofa next to him and start gently dabbing at the 3 wounds on his face - one on his lip, one on his left cheek and one on his forehead.
Cook carefully examined my face as I did so.
He winced a bit as I began to dab on the cut on his lip.
"Sorry." I say, now being more gentle.
"You still look beautiful with mascara all down your face y'know girl, you ought to sign up for modelling -not them porn models, the ones that are on them expensive magazines." He says.
I look at the boy.
"Thank you, not too bad yourself." I blush, dabbing at his wounds again.
I place the bowl on the counter behind me, putting the loo roll beside it.
I look around the room once more. The tele catches my eye once more.
"Me mum got it for me," He says. "When she kicked me out...bought me this shit apartment and all this furniture...then gave me a tele when she found out I actually made it to college." He said, a tone of hatred in his voice.
"Well I should really go home, I'm not in the mood for a party now." I say, hoping he'll be against the idea of me leaving.
"You're not walking back in the dark on your own, plus, police could be looking for us in the area." He said.
"Oh..." I say.
"You can kip here if you want, you take the bed and I'll have the sofa." He said, getting up and pulling a box out from under his bed.
I watched as he changed his bedding to crisp white sheets, they looked brand new. He pulled a blanket out of the box and threw it on the sofa next to me. Then, he pulled another box from under his bed and threw me a T-shirt and a pair of boxers.
He turned around to face the wall.
I got up and took my clothes off and stood in only my bra and pants, black and lacy.
"I-I don't mind y'know." I say.
He turns to look at me, concern on his face, but then he looks me up and down and the cheeky Cook smirk came back around.
"Stunnin' baby." He said, before walking over to the kitchen and putting the kettle on.
I pull his clothes on. He throws me some makeup wipes. I look at him confused "What?" He says. I giggle, taking off my makeup.

I open the door I presumed led to the bathroom. It did. I swirl some of Cook's mouthwash around my mouth, not having a toothbrush with me.

By the time I had walked back in the room, Cook had made 2 hot chocolates, he said he didn't do tea - that his mum loved it. "Here ya go." He said, passing me a mug as I sat on the sofa.
I took a sip. "Oh my gosh, this is honestly the best hot chocolate I've ever had!" I say.
"Of course babe, the cookie monster made it." He says, popping his t-shirt cockily before grappling his own cup and sitting down next to me.

We sat and spoke for hours. He told me everything, I told him everything. My gosh was he misunderstood. Anything he'd done that seemed odd to me I now got. I watched him as he came out of the bathroom after having a wash, he yawned and then slipped back onto the sofa next to me.
"I'm tired too." I lie.
I walk over to the bed and climb in, turning to face him on the sofa.
He smiled.
"What?" I giggle.
"Nothing." He said, getting up to turn the light off.
I heard him climb onto the sofa and settle in.
"Goodnight, India,"
"Night, James."
He chuckled at being called James but eventually fell silent.
I lay awake for at least half an hour, feeling as though something wasn't right.
"Cook?" I whispered.
"Mhm?" He murmured back, obviously still awake too.
"Can you erm....come on the bed...with me?" I say.
"No." He replied.
"O-oh..." I reply.
He burst out laughing.
"Of course I can girl! been sat here waiting for ya to ask!" He says getting up.
I scootch over and turn to the wall. The bed was smaller than mine at home. Cook got into the bed and flung an arm around me.
I turn around to face him.
He looks me in the eyes and strokes a hair out of my face.
I kiss him.
He kisses back.
The first gentle kiss we had, dare I say loving.
As it dies out I turn back around to the wall and Cook put his arm back around me. I snuggle into him.
"I love you too by the way." I said.
I don't know what possessed me to say this, but it felt right.
"W-what?" He said.
"You told me you loved me earlier. I love you too" I said.
"I love you." He replied.
And with that.
We fell asleep.