30 Days With You (Ian Somerhalder Fan Fiction)

Chapter 49: A Night Out-Part One

I was breathless and drowned in sweat. But with a big smile on my face as I ended our concert.

"That's it, Guys! You were great and we love you. Good night!!" I saluted the crowd and ran out of stage under the sound of screams and the camera flashes.

Tonight we were in.....Washington? I didn't even knew anymore. All roads looked the same for me already. But at least it was the last show of the tour and I could go back home to....California? Georgia? Either one...

In honor of it being the last show, we stayed on a hotel for the night to then head back. So now I was going back to my room before Alex walked past me to get to hers.

"Have fun tonight, miss Brooks." She said on a weird tone. Like she knew something I didn't.

"You... too?" I responded confused. It was more of a question than a normal response but I decided to drop it as I opened the door to my room and stepped inside, drowning the noises of Alex's giggles.

I took off my leather jacket on my spot in front of the door, without turning any lights on. I casually walked to the bedroom zone of the room while taking my remaining clothes off. Shoes were stranded on the living room area and my shirt was thrown on the floor by the bathroom. I was unbuttoning my pants when I looked to my left to find Ian casually sitting on my bed. The only light was provided by his phone which he was using before looking at me after I spoke.

"What the hell?!" I said before I recognized him.

"Nice outfit." Was the only thing he said after taking a quick look at my attire. No shoes, no shirt and almost no pants.

"Ian? How did you got here?" I knew the answer to that question as soon as I asked. And we both said the answer at the same time.

"Alex." He said it on a more explanatory tone and I blurred it out like it was a curse word.

"Well that's 'how'" I said. "How 'bout you tell me 'why'?" He repositioned himself on my bed to a sitting position in which his feet were touching the ground.

"Well..." He started. "Over the course of this past few days I've been thinking and I realized one thing... I've never taken you on a date. Like, a real date."

"Your point being...?" I asked. He stood up while he chuckled.

"My point being..." He mocked my tone. "That, if they're no objections, I'm here to take my woman on a date." He said walking closer to me. By the time he finished, he was close enough to be able to kiss me, which he did. That was enough for me to go to my suitcase to take some clothes and make my way to the bathroom, kicking my shirt out of the way.

We were out the door in no time. I was wearing all black as was he. Now outside, covered on the cold night breeze mixed with the warmth of Ian's hand holding mine, I did my best to take pictures with one hand as we walked down the streets, taking pleasure on each other's presence.

He took the camera from me and told me to dance on one of the benches we were walking by. I did as directed and stood up on a bench as he took pictures with a smile on his face. Standing there, I noticed the landscape in the distance from a more higher point of view, so I urged Ian to give me the camera and he did. After I took a picture of the amazing view of the city, I looked down to an even more beautiful view, and this one was looking back at me with baby blue eyes as vibrant as the moon.

He extended his hand to me and I took a picture of him from my spot on the bench. I took his hand and snapped another picture before I jumped down with the camera still hooked to my face. I saw Ian's eyes up close through the camera lens and didn't hesitated on taking another picture. He carefully moved the camera away from my face and connected our lips on a sweet long kiss before we kept walking.

We ended up making a quick stop to eat. But resumed our course down the city after we excited the pizza shop. My choice, despite Ian's suggestions of going to a fancy restaurant.

Alongside the ride, I heard music on the distance. A long distance. In other to get there, I pretty much had to drag Ian. It looked like I was looking for treasure and he was just trying to keep up with my thoughts. But once we arrived, we stopped to listen to the people playing instruments to the beat of Dark Night Of The Soul by Philip Wesley. We stood beside listening to the violins and the piano and I allowed my body to start swaying a little before Ian took me and assumed a dancing position.

It wasn't long until we started dancing. He had a firm guidance and an easy-to-follow pace. I had the feeling he was recycling choreography from his last scene with Nina, and I was right. Once I dance with a partner, I never forget their moves. Only this time, when we were face to face, he didn't hesitated on bringing his face down to mine without loosing a count.

When the song was finished, I left ten dollars on an open violin case and returned the smile from the grateful violinist.

"That was generous of you..." Ian said taking my hand.

"What can I say? I know the feeling..." I responded, remembering all those times I went out with to the city with my guitar and played to buy a bus ticket back home as well as save some for my early planned future.

"Yeah... I know." He said.

How could he? I thought. I never told him that, did I? If I did, I don't recall.

I must have been voicing my thoughts out loud because he responded.

"No. You never did. But I had walked close to that corner on the Capricorn Boulevard back in Florida." He said.

That corner, my corner. A voice on the back of my head said unconsciously.

I looked at him, expecting an explanation as to why did he knew were I spent most of my days and what I did there.

"It's a long story." He said, refusing to elaborate.

"It's a long night." I said, not taking a 'no' for an answer. His eyes went from the road we were walking, to me and back at least three times. He responded once he saw my look of determination was unaffected by how many times he looked at it.

"...Might as well..." He said laying his arm on my shoulders and guiding me through he streets before starting to tell the story.