Despair In The Apartment Lounge

32| the Roberts of the world looks like fun

Song title from:
She looks like fun

April 21st, 2016
LOS ANGELES

Talaska's POV

Large hands trailed down my bare back, one of them attempting desperately to unbuckle my bra. I let out a small laugh at this earning a playful groan of despair from him. The moment our lips detached from each others left me with a slight feeling of desire- which could only be fulfilled with his lips back on mine. Running my fingers through his short brown hair felt nice, I wonder whether he uses conditioner or not. Slipping the bra he's finally succeeded to unbuckle, I throw it to whatever direction without letting our lips disconnect.

A grin formed on his face as his right hand cups my ass firmly and another find its way around my waist, I could feel his straight teeth rub against my lips through his grin. I let out a small squirm when he abruptly lifts me up slightly off my feet- I'd like to think he didn't opt to pick me up bridal style cause my bed was right behind us and not cause I'm 5'3 and weigh 123 pounds. Pushing me gently down on the bed, he stands above me with an eager smirk on his face whilst pulling off his white tee in one graceful move, giving me the impression he's probably done this kind of thing often. Hey, who am I to judge?

He lowers himself down to reconnect our lips causing our bare chests to collide with one another. I was in for a fun night.

Just as he started to leave a trail of soft wet butterfly kisses down my chin to my neck and in between my breasts, the obnoxious iphone ringtone stepped in and replaced my previous groans of pleasure with an annoyed one. He lifted himself up, unsure of what to do.

"It's not mine." He said patiently to me, but clear annoyance came through his tone.

I decide to let it go to voicemail, continuing where we left off but not long after the obnoxious sound interrupted again. Groaning loudly, I snake away from under him and make my way to my phone on the desk.

Timmy Turner

I groan for the 50th time at the sight of the caller ID.
What the hell did Alex want right now? I swipe the screen and bring the phone to my ear.

"Al, right now is really not a good time." Didn't even bother concealing the annoyance in my tone.

"Why?"

"Because, I, uh,,,, I have a guest." I cough awkwardly.

"Well, you better get rid of your guest." He chuckles through the phone.

"You asked me to remind you of that Dior fashion show thing you have tonight. Remember? You practically bribed me to remember it for you."

Oh fuck. It starts at 7, I check the alarm clock on my bedside table and find it was already 6 past ten.

"This is exactly why you should put a reminder on your phone for these sort of things, god sake Tal. You aren't even dressed, aren't ya?" The sound of a knife on a cutting board comes through from his line, my guess he was cooking.

"Is that Talaska? Tell her I said hi!" Ah, cooking with Taylor. They were glued together by the hips, if you saw one of them then you'll probably see the other soon.

"Hey, Taylor. And in my defense, I am totally dressed okay? I just need to,,, do my make up. Which isn't going to take too long, I'm going natural chic...? I don't know, I'll fucking wing it." I say all this with my shoulders squishing the phone to my ears as I frantically run around my room, pulling out the black sleeveless v-neck overalls that Rhea had fitted me in.