RESCUE ; colby brock

06 ; a kiss of death (not really)

CHAPTER SIX

2am.

It was 2am.

And I was still wide awake, replaying every single moment.

The comfort of my small room gave me a sense of reassurance, telling me it was the adrenaline that wanted to kiss Colby.

That... it wasn't me who wanted to kiss Colby.

But everytime I'm brought back to those few seconds, I regret not leaning in. And it drove me crazy.

How could I, Cassandra Story, be so desperate to feel his lips on mine? Based on one interaction I've had with him, there was no way I had any sort of feelings for him... right?

As thoughts flew through my head, a throbbing pain accompanied them, causing me to turn over on my bed in agony.

Even thinking about him was enough to annoy me.

I stuffed my face into my pillow, and tried to force those thoughts away, and enter the embrace of sleep, but instead a crash in the room next to me sounded.

Colby's room?

The crash was accompanied with a loud groan, causing me to chuckle slightly.

He should be careful.

The pounding in my head increased, causing me to roll over and search my nightstand for an ibuprofen.

Holding out a pill, I was ready to ingest it, but before I could, a sound of a soft guitar chord progression halted me.

I knew it wasn't coming from my room, and so confusion clouded my mind.

Until it came to me.

Colby.

Instead of swallowing the pill, I put it down and laid back down on my bed.

I could hear muffles of him singing, groaning, and playing the same part over and over again.

Was he... singing a song?

Better yet, writing... a song?

I searched for an answer in the first actual conversation we held, but was instantly met with confusion, and an increased migraine.

I got up, and exited my room.

Tempted to open Colby's door, I weighed the pros and cons in my head.

Pros: We could write a song together, bond, and maybe finish what we started earlier-- I quickly shake those thoughts away, a tint of red coating my cheeks.

What the hell?

Blaming those rather intimate thoughts on my lack of sleep, thinking on the cons.

Cons: He could be a murderer, he could kick me out, I could say things I'm not meaning to say, or he could be in there with a girl.

The cons were outweighing the pros, and yet, I let the pros guide me inside the room.

-

Opening the door, I saw Colby sprawled out on his bed, which was bigger than mine for the record, with a guitar next to him, and a notebook on the other side of him.

He was shirtless, which didn't help my case, but I admired nonetheless.

I watched as he hummed a melody, he looked so focused and concentrated.

I slowly closed the door behind me, careful to not make any noise. Clearing my throat, I watched as Colby shot up, making direct eye contact with me. I observe as he furiously blushes, grabs his guitar and his notebook and shoves it under his bed.

He stands up, and makes his way towards me, causing me to gulp.

"You... you will not tell anyone about this," He says, closing the small distance between us.

"Tell them, what?" I ask innocently, "That the mysterious Colby Brock... writes songs?"

Anger flashed through his eyes, accompanied with another indecipherable emotion, and before I knew it, I was pressed against the wall.

"You will not tell anyone about this," He repeats, his voice slightly raised.

"Make me," I say, noting that it was the sleep deprivation talking now, and not me.

At least, that's what I would like to think.

A playful smirk danced on his lips, and he leaned in closer, his breath fanning over my lips. My breathing became heavier as I wanted nothing more than to close the distance once and for all.

Colby noticed and his smirk only widened, and that's when it happened.

He closed the distance fully.

His soft lips met with mine, and I tried my best to deepen it every chance I got.

As our tongues fought for dominance, my thoughts were clouded with pleasure and a fuzzy pit formed in my stomach.

Before I could even process, Colby's lips left mine, and he pressed his forehead up against mine.

Pouting at the fact that his lips left mine lonely, Colby smirked in reply.

"There's more where that came from," He whispers, and my eyes make their way back to his icy blue eyes.

I felt a new emotion wash over me, as I longed for one more kiss. But his warmth already left me completely, as he made his way back to his bed.

I stood there, with my mouth agape.

What the hell did I just do— did we just do?

Observing a somewhat unbothered Colby sitting on his bed, he turns his head towards me again, a wide smirk plastered on his face.

"You seem speechless," He says cockily, "Don't tell me... that was your first kiss?" He teases, raising an eyebrow.

I only roll my eyes in response, as my heated demeanor slowly cooled down. I turn to the door, leaving with the last words, "Goodnight, Colby."

Wish I had chosen cooler last words, because.. he was right.

That was my first kiss.

-

5am.

It was 5am.

And the only thoughts clouding my head were the thought of Colby's lips on mine.

My first kiss.

Was with Colby.

Colby Brock.

When there's Colby Brock, there's trouble.

Tara's infamous words yet again made their appearance in my mind, only making me more stressed and overwhelmed with the thoughts and emotions I was experiencing.

Just the thought of the kiss was enough to bring blush to my cheeks.

Not long after I left, Colby's guitar playing ended, and I was not met with the sleep I craved.

I was instead met with the endless thoughts of Colby, of him, his eyes, and... his lips.

At least my headache was gone.

Tossing and turning in my bed, I had hoped to finally force myself to sleep, but the peaking of the sun from my windows was enough to tell me I was not getting sleep.

My god, someone truly does hate me up there.