So Long :)

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~So Long~

Izzi's POV

I snuggled into the blankets and rolled over on the bed, I rolled into something warm. Why was there something warm in my bed? Why did it smell so good? I put my arm out and patted the warm thing, feeling hair I cracked my eyes open.

“Morning love.” Ben smirked. I let out a squeal and fell out of the bunk backwards, landing flat on my ass. Que the pounding headache. “What the fuck, Izzi?” Ben asked poking his head out of the bunk I had just exited so gracefully. A humorous glint lit his eyes as he looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my chest.

I glared at him and huffed, “What!?” his eyes continued to travel over my body and I realized I was wearing a very low-cut tank top and some really short pj shorts that showed off my toned pale legs to perfection. “Would you mind not eye-raping me first thing in the morning Benjamin Bruce?” I asked sarcastically. Someone cleared their throat behind me, so I threw my head back and looked up.

I saw a rather irritated looking Damon. He had his arms crossed and he was practically shooting daggers at Ben, willing him to die. “It's about damn time you woke up, our show starts in an hour.” with one last glare at Ben, Damon turned and walked away.

“Bloody hell.” I face-palmed. That wasn't something I exactly wanted to happen first thing in the morning when I have a pounding headache. Boys suck. I looked down the hall and saw Damon staring angrily at me. Well, hell. I'm screwed. I turned to Ben, “Where's my suitcase?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, “how should I know?”

“because you were the one that had it last!” I told him exasperated. Frustrated, I ran a hand through my hair, looking for the blood-red suitcase that held all of my belongings. I spotted it pushed into a nook between the bunks and the wall that separated the bathroom and bunk hall. Pulling back the curtain with eyes closed, I prayed that one of the AA guys weren't in the bunk tossing off. I peeked and breathed a sigh of relief when it was empty. I heaved my bag into the bunk and opened it up, grabbing the first pair of shredded up and fraying jeans I saw. They were black and looked fashionably worn to grey on the butt. I grabbed a cute matching black lace bra and underwear, a black racer-back tank top to get ready in and headed for the bathroom for a shower.

Fifteen minutes later I exited the bathroom, clothed with wet hair and no make-up. I tossed the brush I had been using unto the bunk with my bag, humming softly to my self while looking for a cute top to wear. I sang:

Since you're not what I want,

You can take everything I've got.

Take the sink,

Take the drier,

If I say I love you then I am a liar.

I mumbled the last line again and realized how true it was for me right now. I had written that song about a week after Damon had first told me he loved me. Dammit. I'm going to have to talk to him soon. After the show I resolved.

I looked up and came face to face with the green eyes I have been dreading lately. Damon grabbed my arms and looked into my eyes, “Something's wrong with us, we need to talk.” he stated seriously.

“I know.” Dammit, I'm not going to do this right now. “after the show, okay? We'll talk then.” I told him, and tried to get out of his hold and past him, but he jerked me back and shook me.

“No, we're going to have this conversation NOW!” Damon yelled at me. Oh no he did not. I glared at him.

“Damon,” I said venomously, “Get your fucking hands off me. Remove them or I will do it for you.” I looked pointedly from him, to his hands that were tightly gripping my upper arms, and back to him.

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