Anchor Tattoo || Chase Atlantic

0.5

"He might kick my ass if he finds out."  - Chase Atlantic

"What the hell are you doing here?" I scoffed looking at the beer bottle in Keith's hand. "What are you NOT doing here?" He countered.

"Doing whatever the fuck I want to because I'm grown, that's what."

"No, no, you were with that 'friend' from last night weren't you , you fucking whore."

"I know you didn't come to my house and call me a whore. Who do you think you are?"

"Because that's what you are and we all know it."

"Get your drunk ass out of here."

"Were you with him?"

"Leave my property."

"ANSWER ME!" He grabbed my arm and pushed me against my front door.

"Get the fuck off of me." I pulled my arm from his grasp. He turned the other way and threw his beer bottle. Not 10 seconds later Mitchel walks up the stairs. "What the fuck is going on." Mitchel questioned. "Oh so you were with him, you are nothing but a worthless slut." Kieth insulted. As soon as he finished his sentence Mitchel's fist collided with his jaw, knocking him down. Mitchel then grabbed him by his shirt pulling him up slightly and continued to punch him. Keith managed to punch him back once or twice but that didn't stop Mitchel nor did I try to stop it, I let it happen because Keith had no right coming here saying that shit. Drunk or not, it's not right. Against my better judgement I stopped Mitchel right before Keith could be knocked cold. "That's enough." I spoke. Mitchel stopped and dropped him. "I'll tell our managers, what do you think they'll say about you and this 'friend' of yours." Kieth  threatened. "Tell the damn managers, no one has seen us together, therefore nothing in the contract is being violated. Imagine what they'll think when they find out you put your hands on me because I was out with my friend when you and I are strictly professional. So go ahead, be a little bitch boy and run along." I countered. Keith stood up, bruises evident in the light. "You're going to regret this." He threatened. "Yeah I don't give a fuck, now leave." I demanded. He scoffed and then began to leave.

I turned back to Mitchel, he didn't have many bruises. He just had a busted lip. "Let's get you cleaned up." I unlocked my door, letting him in. I took him into the kitchen so he could wash his bloody hands while I got him some ice for his hand. He was now sitting on the counter top. "You're pretty strong for someone so damn skinny." I joked. He laughed in response. I grabbed a cloth and wet it with cold water. I stood between his dangling legs and used the damp cloth to clean off the blood from his busted lip. Soon enough I was done. "All done." I looked into his eyes and we just stayed like that for a few seconds. "Fuck it." Mitchel muttered then closed the small gap between us, I was shocked for a second but soon kissed him back immediately. I felt him grin into the kiss and I smiled into it as-well. I wrapped my arms around his neck as his hands found their way to my hips and the kiss deepened. It lasted a while until we finally pulled away. At that point Mitchel was grinning like an idiot, I was too. I rolled my eyes with a smile on my face nonetheless. "I knew you couldn't resist me." He smirked. "You wanna be like that? Let me call Keith and tell him you kissed me." I joked. "He might kick my ass if he finds out." He laughed. "Well we don't want that happening do we?" I smirked. "But we both know I'd win." He defended.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, skinny boy."

"Just wormed my way out of one name and now you got another, I'm never gonna win." He fake pouted.

"You aren't. Now excuse me, I'm going to change into something comfortable."

"And leave me here in these uncomfortable jeans?"