Stick To the Script // Danny O'Donoghue

Chapter 34-Trust

Danny

I buckle my belt and go to my mostly barren closet to find a shirt to wear, but I can't find one I want.

"Jesus, where is that thing?" I say rummaging through the clothes in my closet. "I know it was here. I saw it. It's not like it could have grown legs or something."

I turn around and walk out of the bathroom shouting for her, "Bryna, do you know where my long sleeved button up is? It's the flannel one I had-" I stop short when I come into my bedroom to find her standing there in it with slight grin on her face.

She's got her dark hair up high in a messy bun and little, short pieces of it stick out in every direction.

Her legs are bare and I nearly stop breathing wondering if she has anything on underneath of that.

I look at her standing there, giving me a cute look from underneath her large framed glasses.

I tilt my head and sigh as I look at her, giving her a slight smile, "What do you think you're doing missy?" I ask her.

She pulls her hands, which are wrapped tightly around her huge cup full of steaming tea, up to her face, giggling slightly.

I shake my head, and she starts laughing harder.

"You better put that tea down." I tell her, starting to step slowly towards her.

She does as I ask and I dart towards her. She bursts out in laughter as she runs away from me, and she holds her hands up in surrender, laughing and saying, "don't, don't, don't," over and over as I corner her.

I smile, "What do you mean?" I ask innocently. "Don't do what?"

"Oh, don't play innocent; I know what you're doing." I grin and reach under her arms to her sides, tickling her ruthlessly.

"No!" she shrieks, laughing uncontrollably.

"Gotcha!" I shout as she ducks out of my grip and falls onto the unmade bed beside us. I drop next to her and pull her onto my lap as I continue to tickle her, causing her to laugh even harder and kick at the air.

She tries to escape but I pull her back to me each time.

"Stop...Danny...can't...breathe..." she manages to get out.

"Alright," I say reluctantly stopping, but still not letting go of her.

She sits there on my lap, her bare skin against mine, her hair falling out of its bun. I look at our reflections in the large mirror in front of the bed, and see that her glasses are crooked on her face.
She sighs as she struggles for breath and reaches back with her hand, slapping me gently on the face.

"Ouch!" I say.

"You deserved that." she mutters.

"Oh come on, you loved it." I say.

"No I didn't." she pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.

I tap my fingers that rest on her stomach, pulling her closer to me and sitting up a bit more.

I rest my chin on her shoulder and turn to kiss her on the cheek. "Yes you did." I say. "You love to be tickled."

"No I don't." she says.

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"Stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting." she mumbles.
"I'm gonna make you smile."
She raises her eyebrows.

I rub my scruffy chin against her face, and at first she doesn't do anything.

"I know you can't resist." I say in a sing-song voice.