22 | after party

                                    

                                          
"How the hell is a twenty-four seven McDonald's closed?" I complained.
                          
I wasn't really hungry or craving any food for that matter since we went to go grab something after shopping and I ate at Kayla's house earlier. Though it was a shame that McDonalds wasn't open because I definitely would have ordered something.
                          
Brandon put his free hand to the back of his neck, stumped on where to go. Watching him think was cute. He'd scrunch his face together and bite his lip in thought. 
                          
We checked where we were on his phone. "Oh! We're close to the studio from here. Unless you're hungry we can just go there?" He suggested.
                          
"I just wanna warm up so yeah, let's go." As I said so, Brandon did the same thing he did to me yesterday when he took me home; he held one of my hands and put both our hands in his pocket. Though it was his hoodie pocket this time.
                          
His hand engulfed mine but it was warm and gave me comfort. Just as we were about to make our way there, he looked down on me and gave me a small smile. One that I've seen many times before but a small epiphany came to me that opened my eyes a bit. 
                          
Why is it that Brandon is here, hanging out with me? He's on his way to being a hotshot pop-star in a well growing boyband. He could be anywhere right now, exploring places in London or hanging out with Simon Cowell and maybe other celebrities. But he's here with me. There were pretty, tall and more confident girls hitting on him at the party and he's decided to be with me in the cold, trying to find a place to hang out. With me. 
                          
I wasn't anything special and all he was to me two months ago was a pretty boy who could sing. Though now we've made a connection, bloomed into a beautiful friendship. My internet crush became a real crush. But was it unrequited?
                          
When we entered the building, the familiar rush of warm air hit us, warming me up instantly. It was probably warm enough for me to take off his jacket but I didn't want to. I liked how it smelled of him too much. It was like he was hugging me the whole time.
                          
"We're taking the stairs." I demanded.
                          
He chuckled. "Alright."
                          
We went to his little room with the three seater couch and plugged in a convertible heater Brandon stole from one of the other boys' rooms. He turned the heater on, allowing the sound of it blowing hot air be our white noise.
                          
I sat on one side of the couch, making me the closest to the window. I took off my shoes for comfort and bent my legs on the couch, taking up half the space. He sat on the other, leaving one half of a seat between us. 
                          
"So, does that happen often?" He asked randomly. 
                          
"What?" 
                          
"You getting hit on." 
                          
I laughed out loud. "Nope. That was the first time. Couldn't you see how terrified I was?"
                          
"Yeah, that's why I came over." He laughed with me. "That guy was such an ass. I'd punch him if I ever see him." It surprised me that he said so because he wasn't a violent person at all. 
                          
"That's hard to believe." I joked, resting my head on the couch while keeping my eyes on him.
                          
"What, you don't think I can take him?" He quirked an eyebrow up and feigned offence. 
                          
"Yeah, I don't." I giggled.
                          
"Have you ever been in a relationship?" 

                          
"Well the answer to that is a big, fat no." I chuckled sadly.