sweet [awsten knight]

0.0 // Prologue

Laguna Beach, CA

There was something almost comedic about waking up. The crisp white sheets of the expensive hotel, the sunlight peeking through the big window that leads out to a balcony overlooking the ocean, the smell of cologne on the left side of the bed where my boyfriend would be laying but was suspiciously empty.

However, this almost perfect scene was ruined immediately when I heard the click of the lock and the door fly open.

"GRAB YOUR TEA AND BISCUITS MOTHERFUCKER! RISE AND SHINE, DONT GET BLIND!" Were the first words I heard before turning my face into the pillow, the blanket slipping off my figure exposing my skin and making me shiver. I tried to block out his screaming, knowing fully it was probably only around 9 am and we should both still be in bed.

"I don't want tea," I grumbled loudly into the pillow, feeling the bed sink next to me making me peek up from my self-induced pillow suffocation. His blue hair, now incredibly faded and almost green, was a sight I'd never get tired of seeing. His hands holding a mug presumably filled with scalding hot tea and a big smile on his face.

"Drink up or else the Brits will think you're crazy," He laughed, trying to coax the cup to my lips. What the fuck is this man-child doing? I'm not sick, at least I don't think I am, and it's well over 80 degrees which is way too hot to even be thinking about hot tea.

"The Brits don't even know who I am," I mumbled, pulling away completely from the pillow and sitting up, taking the stupid mug from his less-than-stupid hands before playing with the tea bag that sat nicely in the cup.

"Oh they know you, and they want you." He winked, taking a sip of his own tea before making a disgusted face and setting it down on the nightstand. He's such an ass. "Yeah, that's disgusting, don't drink that."

He pulled the cup from out of my hands and sat it next to his before turning his body to face mine. I was completely out of the loop, confused and disoriented from the abrupt wake-up call.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked him, pulling the covers off of me completely and shivering at the frigid room. Too cold in here, but way too hot outside. 

"Guess which one of your favorite band's are headlining in England in September," He smirked, leaning against the pillows with his arms propped up behind his head, ankles crossed. 

I stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed. "If it's Bring Me The Horizon, you're taking me to England in September." I was completely serious, I'll travel across the world to see them.

"Think bigger and richer and prettier." 

"One Direction is the only band ringing a bell," I smirked, my arms now resting on my hips. I knew where this was going, I just wanted to play along for a little bit longer and see how antsy he would get.

"Close! Now think American."

"Hmm, would it be that weirdo band from Houston everyone seems to like? Waterpolo? or Water Sharks?" I questioned with a big grin on my face, ready to jump on the bed and shower him in kisses. Inside, my heart is full and I'm happier than I've ever been for the band, but I have to keep my tough exterior.

"Ding, ding, ding!" He smiled, opening up his arms. Almost immediately my tough exterior fell and I jumped on the bed, landing on top of him and wrapping my arms around him tightly. I made my way to his face, taking his lips in mine with a smile.

He wrapped his arms around me, kissing me back as he held me down on top of him.

"I'm so proud of my boys!" I muttered, bursting with excitement as I held him close.

"What about me? Say you're proud of me!" He fake cried, laughing by the end of it.

I nodded, "So proud of my little Awssie-Wassie, going across the seas and not being a little bitch on the plane ride there!" 

He scoffed, practically pushing me off so I laid on my side of the bed, laughing hysterically, instead of on top of him. "That's enough of that, you're lucky I already bought your plane ticket." He chuckled, getting up and pulling off a cookie from the 'breakfast cart' he had brought up. "Now, Stella-Wella, these are called biscuits in the U.K. Don't get them confused with my mother's famous Sunday dinner biscuits."