"Wow." A wide grin spreads across my face as we reach the end of the staircase, and I lean onto the handrail to watch her slender body as she makes her way to a door. "You actually locked it."

Freya looks over her shoulder at me, her frizzy hair bouncing from one side to the other as it always does. "Of course I did," She responds, turning around to look at what she's doing. "I know the guys are your frat brothers but I don't trust any of them."

"Not even Seth?" I raise my brows, pushing myself away from the rail as she pushes the door of my room open. At my question, she only breathes out a laugh – and here I thought she liked Seth.

"He's okay, but he's a guy," Is her only explanation. And it's actually a good one. "Uh, well I'll get my backpack and then we can go-"

"I haven't been in this room in a while," I mumble to myself, but I guess she heard me because she'd stopped talking. I glance at Freya, to find that she's already looking at me, and walk further into the room. "I think I missed it."

As I walk to my bed, I hear her sigh on the other side of the room, and initially drop the couple of shirts we originally came to the house for. The plan was to get the clothes she left from when she stayed here and leave to my apartment, but now I kinda think I want to stay. I haven't had this feeling basically since I came here for the first time.

"What are you doing?" She questions, fake annoyance in her voice as I lie onto the mattress, and place my hands behind my head. "Come on, the party is obviously starting and I don't-"

"Freya," I whine, and she purses her lips, giving me a skeptical look. "Chill. Come here."

The lamppost just outside my room makes it easy for me to see her rolling her eyes, but still making her way around the bed until she's at the right side of it. "We're wasting time."

"You got anything to do tonight?"

"...No."

"Then shut up," I mutter and take her hand, to pull her on the bed with me, but her actions surprise me a little; as soon as she sees what I'm trying to do, she places her left knee right next to me, and throws her right leg over my stomach, straddling me. I'm not sure if that was a good or bad idea.

"Is this what you wanted?" She asks, but I guess my euphoric-looking smile is enough of an answer for her. I sit up slightly, accidentally pulling her with me and making her sit flat on top of me, instead of supporting herself on her knees. Okay, that wasn't a good idea for sure.

"Jesus Christ, I swear you don't look as heavy as you feel," I breathe out, through a small laugh; maybe if I'd expected her to put all of her weight on me I wouldn't have been this surprised. Now I'm surprised and slightly out of breath. "How much do you even weigh?"

Freya purses her lips, looking around the room for a few seconds. I can only hope that she didn't take my question to offense. "I was a hundred and forty pounds last week."

A hundred and forty? Where does all of that weight go? Certainly not in her legs, her legs are as skinny as my arms. "I'm a hundred and forty-five, but it's all fat."

She chuckles at my words, her eyes crinkling. "You barely have any fat, Niall," She points out, and grips the headboard behind my head to reposition herself, so that she's on her knees again. Her position is making it easy for my eyes to wander - I'm starting to like this. "I'm quite light, so I can't be that muscly. But I'm still all muscles, even with my weight. Blame my trainer."

I raise my brows, starting to smile again, "Are you still boxing? Kickboxing?"

"Yeah," She tells me, her voice soft and quiet. It goes well with the darkness of the room and the dim light coming from the street light outside. "I have trainings from nine to eleven at morning, and then I go to work. That's why I never work in first shift. I hate missing trainings."

"What are you even training for?"

She grins, amused with my question, and places her hands on the pillow on either side of me so she can lean forward, making her face closer to mine. I'm really starting to like this. "Dunno," She shrugs in response, "It started as a hobby. Now I do it because I like doing it."

I nod at her answer and put my hands low on her waist, hoping she'd think I'm touching her to see what these trainings have really done to her body. And that actually is partly the reason my hands are on her. "And you do it every day?"

"No, I'd be a bodybuilder by now," She laughs lightly, but stops once she looks down at my hands - I've pulled her blouse up slightly so I'd feel her bare skin. Instinct. "Only on Mondays and Wednesdays."

And today is Wednesday, and she worked in first shift so she'd be able to be with me when I got released from the hospital, which probably means she missed a training because of me. I feel special and guilty at the same time. "You missed it today, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but one day isn't a big deal."

"I'm sorry."

She grins at my words, "It's okay. It's not even your fault."

Nodding again, I keep my eyes on my hands as I slide them further up her sides - I hate how she always wears baggy shirts, and sweaters, and God knows what. It's like she's not even aware of the figure she has.

"Here," Freya almost whispers, sitting up straight. "I'll make it easier for you."

I blink in confusion, but my expression gradually turns blank as she brings all of her hair over her shoulder, and grabs the back of her blouse to haul it over her head. I gulp and bring my hands to my chest as she pulls the fabric off with ease, not even getting her hair stuck for a second. On another note, this is another idea of hers that could either be good or bad, and I'm once again unsure which one it is.

"Okay, um..." Is the first thing I say when she drops the grey piece of clothing next to us, and I'm facing her three quarters naked upper body, only clad in a black bra. I can't help quickly scanning her skin - or what can be seen of it in the slight darkness - and I catch a glimpse of two of her tattoos, before my common sense tells me that it's probably best that I look up at her face. I'm not even embarrassed by how awkward I'm being, I mean, she should give me heads-ups about these things. "Do you want me to take a piece of clothing off of me?"

My lame attempt at joking kind of works, as she frowns, but also breathes out a laugh. "No."

"Do you want me to take a piece of clothing off of you?"

My other attempt has more effect, when she gives me an actual laugh. Just a reminder that I had to work four months for this. "No, I was thinking," She starts, but doesn't continue; instead she gets off of me, much to my dismay, and strolls over to a dresser of mine. I take that as a chance to sit up properly, so that when she returns on my lap, we're completely face to face.

I smile, widely when she takes out my Eagles shirt - the one she wore the night when she almost knocked my teeth out - and pulls it over her head. She starts making her way back to the bed, but comes to a halt when she lays eyes on my desk, my working desk, and takes a slow few steps toward it. She then turns on the little table lamp, that being the only source of light in the room. Other than the lamppost outside, of course.

"You're talented," Freya says, flipping through some of the drawings I made for school, and I can't help smiling at her small compliment. "But seriously, who needs this many rulers and pencils and-"

"A future architect, let me tell you," I cut her off, with a proud slash cocky grin on my face. I force it to stay on my face as she sighs, and starts walking back to the bed. I kind of hate that she left the lamp on, it kills the romance. Not that there was much of it in the first place anyway, but still.

"So," She starts, and I thank the heavens when she straddles me again, this time putting her hands on my torso. "That's really what you want to be? An architect?"

"Yeah," I answer carefully, inspecting her face; I can't tell if we're just talking about my plans for the future, or if she's not liking them. "Like a constructor."

"A constructor?" She raises her eyebrows at me, and I'm relieved when she starts smiling, looking impressed even. "That's a good ambition. The pay is also good," She says with a smile, but then I feel her body tense up for some reason. "Unless you... want to pursue this in Ireland? Then I'm not sure about the pay."

I pull my lips between my teeth, refusing to smile at her obvious nervousness. I'm about 80% sure she sounds nervous because she thinks I'll leave Chicago after college, but I'm not in the mood to tease her tonight. Not when she's sitting on top of me, in my shirt, in a semi-dark room, and we're discussing the future.

"The pay in Ireland is alright," I tell her, in a calm voice, as if I'm not noticing her anxiousness. "But I kind of want to stay here," I add, looking at my hands as I take hers to intertwine our fingers, in-between our bodies. "The pay is better here."

Freya squeezes my hands, and I look up at her; there's a knowing smile on her face, but it's obvious that neither of us is going to admit what's really on our minds. That she doesn't want me to leave and go to Ireland, and that I don't want to go to Ireland because of her. Who knows what's gonna happen in three years though?

"How'd you become interested in architecture?" She asks after a minute, inspecting our hands. "Is anyone in your family a constructor?"

As she looks up at me, I can tell that she'd asked that to ease the sudden tension - but she also has no idea what conversation she'd just started. "Yeah," I answer slowly, using my thumbs to play with hers, "My dad used to be one."

A few seconds pass before she shifts in my lap, her expression cautious. I'm not even sure if she wants to have this kind of a talk. "Your dad?" She repeats in a low voice, earning a nod from me. "Did he want you to be like him? Career-wise, I mean."

"He was... hoping for it," I smile humorously, "Luckily I happened to like what he did. Made me wanna do it myself too."

"What did he do, exactly?" She asks again, lowering our hands to my stomach, but keeping them entwined. "Like, did he construct houses, buildings... bridges?"

Residential building construction, commercial building construction and heavy civil construction. Ha. I listen in school. Although it's easier to just say houses, buildings and bridges. "He was a civil engineer. So mostly buildings."

Freya nods again - I can only imagine how she must be feeling right now. I don't remember us having a serious conversation that lasted over a minute, two at most. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and assume that you had a very nice life?"

Her head is titled to the side, and her eyes focused on anything but my own and, yeah, there goes the seriousness. "Financially?" I offer, and she nods a quick few times. Somehow half of our conversations are brought down to money. "Then yeah, it was nice. Great, actually. Ace when his company got a skyscraper as a project, and he was the project manager."

I restrain myself from laughing as her eyes go as wide as golf balls, and she's practically gaping at me. "Really? That's... amazing, no wonder he wanted his son to be like him."

Her wide smile encourages me to continue, "And you know what else?" Her expression drops just a but as I lean forward, to whisper, "After that, he expanded his company to the US."

Freya blinks a couple of times, her eyes still wide. "Where in the US?" She whispers back- wow, this is so intense.

"Here."

"Here?"

"In Chicago."

"No," She whispers again, holding the word out in slight shock. "You're lying."

"I'm very much serious," I continue with a quiet laugh, finding her shock too amusing to let go of it just yet. "And the money he got from his projects was enough to get me and my brother through college."

I start laughing loudly- in my normal tone that is, when she parts her lips enough so they're forming an a perfect 'o' - that's when she snaps out of it, and starts chuckling with me. "You shouldn't be telling me this," She says with a smile, pretending that I didn't just blow her mind. "I'm starting to like you more."

"Because I can afford an education?" I ask and she nods, though I can't help but feel she's being sarcastic. "Well, if it means anything. I'm getting an education in America so I'm probably going to be poor by the time I'm finished."

She smiles, but I can tell that she's still stunned by what I've told her. Honestly though, did something like that never cross her mind? How did she think I can afford an apartment, university and Netflix without having to get a job?

"So, you're a rich white boy and you happen to like me," She says, nodding firmly to herself. "Good one, Freya."

"I'm not a rich white boy," I frown, lifting my arm to awkwardly grip the headboard behind me. "And I don't like you."

She frowns too, putting her hands on my collarbones just to slide them down my body. "But I like you."

"Well the feeling isn't mutual."

"We should break up, then."

"Damn straight. Go on now, get off me."

To my slight surprise - and slight satisfaction - she gives me a curt nod and gets off my lap swiftly, but gracefully. I watch her, with a growing smile as she angrily walks around the bed, to her clothes and backpack.

"I thought you were different, Niall," She sighs dramatically, shaking her head as she shoves her shirts into her rucksack. "Turns out you're like any other white boy."

"That's all peachy, but you forgot something," I tell her, restraining myself from laughing at her accusation, and my words cause her to stop at the door. When she turns around, she narrows her eyes in a glare as she sees her blouse hanging on my forefinger, with a cheeky smile on my face.

"Very well, then," Freya says meekly, dropping her backpack on the ground and strolling over to the bed. "Oh, but I think I should give this back to you first."

With that, she turns around swiftly and crosses her arms over her body, to grab the hem of my shirt, and pull it over her head excruciatingly slow but also curving her body in the most sensual way possible- and I'm pretty sure I'm the luckiest nineteen year old in America right now.

A wicked smile starts spreading across my face as she carelessly tosses it to the ground, but it looks like she's not done. "Oops," She purrs and bends over, keeping her body at a right angle - her back is facing me, just so that we're clear - as she picks up my shirt that she'd accidentally dropped, and whips her hair back as she stands up, just as slowly- so here's one situation that's making me hate the fact that I'm male.

I bend my right leg slightly so that my knee is facing up, and discreetly try pushing the growing tent in my jeans down, already knowing it wouldn't help. Not as long as she's standing right in front of me, 'innocently' running her fingers through her hair, only wearing a godforsaken bra and those tight-ass fucking ripped jeans that can alone make me go hard when she wears them.

Well, that's some effect she has on me.

"And that?" Freya starts as she spins back around, so that she's facing me. "I think I'll have that."

She strolls over to the bed, pointing at the blouse that's still hanging off my finger - but I instinctively move my hand away, not letting her snatch it from me. I grin when she nods with a smile, knowing what I'm trying to do.

"This was fun Niall, but I'm gonna need-" She cuts herself off and yelps, as I promptly throw my arms around her waist, pulling her onto the bed - and to my surprise, she lets me do this without fighting me. Within five seconds, I'm hovering over her and she's looking up at me with wide eyes, as if she's shocked that I'd done something like that. It's just an act; it has to be an act, she's not oblivious enough not to expect such a male move from me.

"You really know your business, don't you?" I ask lowly, giving her a lopsided smile as she nods, trying to act casual but I can tell that she's not all that calm with me on top of her, while she's shirtless. This brings back memories.

I watch her face for another few seconds, only just realizing how perfect she looks, lying beneath me, her eyes boring into mine, her lips forming a lazy smile and her hair all over the sheets. Almost like she's meant to be in this position. And she is. Under the right circumstances, she's definitely meant to be in this position.

"Do you have a thing for lying on top of women and doing nothing?" She asks, catching my attention. I blink and open my mouth to give her some stupid kind of answer, but then she places her hands on either side of my head, her thumbs lightly rubbing my temples. I close my eyes at the action, only slightly opening them when I lower my head down to hers, so I'd properly capture her lips with my own.

The kiss starts out slow and hesitant even, my arms supporting me on either side of her body so we're barely even touching. A minute passes before she slides her slightly shaky hands to my arms, pulling me down closer to her, and I take the hint, shifting a little so that my body is lightly pressed against hers. My movements make her let out a sharp breath against my lips, and for a second I'm concentrated on the smell of peppermint and actual cigarettes, before she reconnects our lips in another kiss- and it's nothing like the first time.

This one is almost all tongues and teeth, on the brink of violent. I'd always known, in the back of my mind, that she has this nearly insignificant frenzied side to her, that never really came out. I've actually only once seen it emerge, and that was the very first time I laid eyes on her. Until moments ago, I hoped to never see her that frenetic again, but I think I'd like to see her go out of control in this situation. And as she reaches over my shoulder to grasp a fistful of my sweatshirt, I also think that I might have said my thoughts out loud.

I pull away from the inexpressibly sloppy kiss, clutching the back of my shirt to yank it over my head. Freya's face freezes as I throw it in an unknown direction, like she's just realizing what we're doing, but I don't pay much attention to it as I drop onto my elbows again and kiss her, this time rigidly grinding my hips against hers. She digs her fingers into my bare shoulder blades, while I break the kiss to breathe out sharply at the relieving feeling of our bodies connecting, and she takes that as a chance to turn her head to the side.

"Ni- Niall," She calls, breathless, her voice a little warning as I latch my lips to her neck. "Niall, I'm ser- Niall- okay, stop. Stop. Stop, stop!"

Her hands knock the air out of my lungs as she pushes me away, and I'm startled to find myself facing the ceiling. Once I've caught my breath I prop myself up on my elbows and look to my right, the sight once again startling me; Freya, sitting against the headboard, her knees stiffly against her chest and her hands practically glued to her face. She's also out of breath, but it seems that we're lacking air for completely different reasons. What the hell just happened?

"Freya?" I call quietly, cautiously too as I flip onto my knees, and crawl over to her. I delicately spread her legs so I could kneel between them, and slowly take her hands off of her face. Her expression is a little disturbing - she looks terrified, breathing unevenly, her lower lip quivering slightly, and I can feel her pulse racing as I hold her wrists. I swear I didn't do anything that I normally wouldn't.

"Are you okay?" I ask, obviously worried, but also confused out of my mind. "Did I do something?"

"No, no," She shakes her head quickly, giving me some relief. "It just, you... it made me relive some moments."

She laughs at her own phrase, but doesn't sound humorous at all- and that's when it hits me; those moments she just relived, I'm almost positive they're from when she was with Craig. Because he was forceful too, probably not nearly as little as I am, but I'm guessing every 'encounter' she had with him started out this way.

I slowly close my eyes when I remember the day after the frat party he dragged her out of, when I went to her apartment to give her her jacket back; she was limping. And up until now, I refused to believe it was because of what I first thought it was - but apparently, it is. He'd assaulted her the worst way possible and that's why she looks like she's going to have a heart attack right about now.

"Niall?" Hearing her voice makes me blink, and look up at her with furrowed eyebrows. "Don't-don't be mad, I'm just having a-"

"No, it's fine," I tell her sincerely, wrapping one arm around her back to see if she's still scared of being touched. I curse internally as she winces, but then quickly brings her arms around my neck, gradually calming down. "I understand," I mumble, earning an appreciative hum from her. That's good, this is good. She's never been with a man other than Craig himself and I know that it hasn't been a long time since she's last been with him, but I don't want him invading her mind whenever she's with me. I really don't want that.

She's the first one to pull away from our hug, but keeps her face a mere inch away from mine. "Thank you," She almost whispers and pecks my lips, her gesture making me smile.

"Don't worry about it," I mutter back, placing a short kiss on her lips too. "And next time, tell me if I'm being too fast."

"I will."

"Or too rough."

"Okay."

"'Cause I can be gentle too, you know."

Her smile drops a little when I bring my fingers to a strand of her hair, gently pulling it behind her ear as I scan her face, looking for any sort of reaction. I know it's the absolute worst moment to bring up sexual activities again, but I still have a hard-on and I'm actually willing to take it as slow as she'd want me to.

"I... believe that you can," She starts, carefully, and I already know what her answer is going to be. "But... maybe some other time?"

"Yeah, of course," I smile, and quickly place a kiss on her cheek to assure her I'm fine with waiting. "So, um... you wanna stay here for the party, or..?"

"No," She answers quickly, but then shrugs, a bit hesitantly. "I mean, I could go to one of the future parties with you, but I just want to go home now."

I nod at her response, her eyebrows knitting together when she notices the growing smile on my face. "Home."

"What?"

"You called my apartment home."

Freya blinks, then rolls her eyes in realization. "Yeah, well, it is where I live now, isn't it?"

"I could throw you out anytime I want, keep that in mind."

"Whatever you say, Michelangelo." With that, she gently pushes me away from her, and pulls herself off of the bed to get dressed, while I shake my head from my position on the mattress; she can't just call me Michelangelo after I've threatened to throw her out. It's not fair. It just isn't.

*******

Once I'm done scanning every corner, every object and every flat surface of the two connected rooms, I turn to Freya, who's still standing at the door frame, giving me a weird look. "What the hell were you doing, investigating the place?" She asks, finally walking into the living room, and dropping her backpack next to the coffee table.

"As a matter of fact, I was," I reply, earning an eye roll from her as I look around again. "You didn't change anything."

"That's because I barely spent any time here while you were at the hospital," She explains, quietly, as she walks around the shabby sofa. "I hate being by myself."

"Mhm," I hum in response, intuitively placing my arms around her neck. "I kinda like that about you."

"Well I hate it."

"I figured," I nod firmly, "Guess that's why I like it."

She narrows her eyes at me, glaring playfully as she shakes her head. "Why do I even like you, you're such a teenager."

"You can leave if you want, the door hasn't moved since we came in here."

"Nah, I think I'll wait until you decide to throw me out."

"Alright," I answer in a light tone, turning my head to a window for a few seconds. "Just a heads-up, I'm probably gonna do it when it's raining. So I can watch you dance in the rain while I'm at it."

Freya nods slowly, still glaring at me but with a growing smile on her face. "I see how it is. Well," She begins again, clapping her hands together and taking a few steps away from me, "To give you a miniature idea of how that'd look, I'm going to take a shower."

I part my lips at the information, not quite knowing what to say for a few seconds as she begins walking away, toward the bathroom. "You know, I think there's enough space for two people in that box."

"Not if one of those two people has wandering hands."

"They can control themselves, just a reminder."

Her hand is on the handle of the door of the bathroom, but she doesn't open it; instead, she looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes narrowed but this time in curiosity. "You really think so?"

Hell yeah I think so. "I really do."

"And what happens if you're wrong?"

"I... get punched?"

Freya nods firmly, looking around as if thinking about my response. "That's a good answer. Okay, you're given permission to join me."

I raise my brows, genuinely confused for the first time. "Wha- what?"

"Don't make me change my mind."

The look she gives me before closing the bathroom door behind her, is enough to get me moving. As I tug my sweatshirt off for the second time tonight on my way to the bathroom, I can't help but think that I'm going to see her fully naked in a matter of minutes. Naked and wet. That's the second best to having sex and it's all that I'm going to need for tonight.

She's right, I am such a teenager.

*******

one awkward, four-in-the-morning kind of question: how do you guys feel about softcore smut? i could use your thoughts and opinions for future chapters. but key word --softcorE SO DON'T EVEN EXPECT THE EXPLICIT SHIT YOU READ IN AFTER okay thanks in advance, ily and please please please vote and comment :) x