Lies

Arrived

Anastasia

I'm sitting at the bar in the airport terminal, awaiting the arrival of none other then Guns N' Roses themselves. 

My week at home alone went by slowly, but the day was finally here. The guys were coming home.

I order four drinks. Two for me and two for Duff. He said he'd meet me here. 

It was just barely noon, (A lot earlier then I usually wake up)  but my eyes were wide awake. 

I couldn't believe they were finally coming home. 

Anxiously, I watch flight after flight board the plane and exit the plane over and over again. I listened to the overhead speaker.

"LAX to Charleston International Boarding" she said. 

I felt like I would never get to see them.

After about 30 minutes and another round of drinks later, I see the unmistakable fiery red hair walking down the terminal. He was followed by a bunch of misfits dressed in leather, all of them carrying suitcases. 

My heart jumps to my throat as I see Duff. 

Although I haven't seen him in a month, he looks almost the same. His blonde hair lays down nicely, but it's longer then when I saw him last. His roots are showing his natural color and he's wearing a new shirt. 

I smooth down my tight black skirt and white blouse and get up slowly. 

When Duff sees me, his face lights up. 

I kick off my high heels quickly and leave them at the bar. 

I run as fast as I can towards Duff and jump into his arms. 

"Hey." he says, his voice sounding more relieved then anything else. I wrap my legs around his torso and hug him so tight that I think I might squeeze all the air out of him

"I missed you, Duff." I tell him.

"I missed you too baby. You look beautiful." he says kindly.

The spark in the air between us causes my cheeks to flush and the hair on my arms to stand on end. His touch sends electricity down through my stomach and right into my crotch. 

Magnetic attraction.

I wanted him, now.

I pull out of our hug and connect my lips with his. It turns into a lot more then a little peck, and when I open my eyes again, the flash of a camera blinds me.

What the fuck? 

"Who the fuck are you?" I ask him as he continues to snap pictures of Duff and I in the middle of the airport. 

"Mick Wall. Kerrang! Magazine." he says, continuing to snap pictures of us. 

"What the hell?" I ask Duff. 

Instead of answering my question, he kisses me again, clearly unfazed by the man snapping pictures of us like we're in a photo shoot. 

"We've been getting a lot of press lately." he says.

"Oh."

Duff takes my hand in his and we walk over to the bar so I can collect my shoes. As we walk, I can see the rest of the band stopped up ahead. They were being assaulted by even more cameras and reporters. 

"When did this happen?" I ask Duff.

"I don't really know. In Holland there were a few. In England there were even more. This is the most I've ever seen, actually." he answers.