Miles Away | Nick Mara

Twenty One

*WARNING: There are sexual references in this chapter. If it makes you uncomfortable, please move on to the next chapter. It's not too descriptive or detailed, but please skip this chapter if you need to!*

Tiffany, Charlotte and I jumped and laughed, screaming while singing along while the boys sang on stage. As usual, the crowd was wild; singing and screaming every time the formation changed, or every time a new song started to play. The guys were having fun too, laughing and communicating with their fans.

An acoustic version of 'On My Way' started to play. The crowd toned down, turning on the flash light on their phones, waving their hands to the slow tempo of the music. The boys sat on stools, Zion playing the guitar at one end. We were at the front, leaning against the metal fence that split the crowd and the stage. I watched as they sang, realizing how sad the song actually is.

Nick looked in my direction. Our eyes met. He didn't look away, and neither did I. He continued to sing, and I sang along, my eyes tearing up a little. I smiled. Charlotte squeezed my hand when she saw what was happening. I leaned my head on her shoulder, keeping my eyes on him.

By the time the song ended, tears were streaming down my cheeks. Thankfully, nobody else could see. They were either too busy singing along, or they couldn't see because of the dark. Tiffany would look at me every once in a while. She seemed to have noticed, but didn't say anything. I sighed in relief.

Once the show ended, it took around an hour for everyone to leave. Once the fans left, we stayed to help clean everything up and pack the equipment away. But soon, we were all in the car, heading back to the hotel.

We decided to order pizza and gather in one room. The girls showered first, changed into their pajamas, and headed to Austin's room. A few minutes after they'd left the room, I sat up from the bed and went to charge my phone. Connecting to a speaker, I selected a playlist. Music began to play, filling the room with the soft boom of a bass and gentle vocals. Just as I stood up, the door opened. I turned to see Nick in the doorway, shirtless with black sweatpants. He held a towel in his hand, drying his hair.

"Sorry." He said.

I laughed. "It's fine."

"Are you okay?"

I nodded with a smile. His arms dropped down by his side, the towel resting on top of his head. He closed the door gently and sat on the edge of the bed. I walked towards him, stopping just inches in front of his legs. He looked up at me.

"You were crying," he said softly.

"I'm okay."

A strand of hair fell in front of my face. He reached up slowly and pushed it away with his fingers.

"You sure?"

I nodded.

I breathed in, wrapping my hands around his neck. His hands travelled to my bare waist, the space in between my bralette and skirt. I could feel the tingle of his warm palms against my skin. He pulled me a little closer. We looked at each other for a while. His eyes twinkled. I paused before pushing my lips against his.

He lifted my thigh and brought it over his. I sat on his lap, leaning on both my knees and his thighs. Our lips remained locked, his hands traveling up towards the back of my neck. My fingers rested on his chest, then dropped down, tracing the outline of his toned stomach. I could feel the muscles tighten as he picked me up, placing me on the bed, his body on top of mine, his hips between my thighs. My fingers lingered by the waistband of his sweatpants, contemplating whether I should take them off.

He pulled away from me for a minute, looking at me again.

"Yes?"

I nodded. "Yes."

He started to move as soon as he'd heard my response, unbuttoning my skirt, slipping them off and tossing them to the side. The sheets felt cold against my skin, but the sensation faded quickly as I pushed him over, forcing his body under mine. My hips moved over his, my right hand pulling at the string on his sweatpants.

He let out a moan, one hand on my waist, one hand running through his hair. I pushed my hand under the fabric, my warm fingers meeting the warmth of his skin. A second later, I pulled away the waistband of his underwear. He clenched his fist.

One thing led to another.
Then to another.