Summary: In which Bianca knows she's a bad influence, and has a hard time talking. Also known as having a hard time finding the right moment to work things out.

A/N: Hello my few readers! I haven't died, here's some Badam. Not as 'dark' as I usually write them, but I still like it. It's still long though. Hope you like it. Title and ending are probably going to be redone a bit. Whenever I get my head back in order completely.

stuck between the pages

"I've been waiting for this moment, all night,

but it's not quite right."

i: [let's start with] just. one. (little).l i e.

"I think I still like Drew." She says to Adam one day, while the both of them are sitting in the living room. His mother's out on a business trip, Bianca still has yet to figure out just what the hell his mother does for a living, and everyone else went on a picnic or something. Adam had stayed home because he wanted to play his new game, and so when Bianca came over, as she always does lately, they'd ended up in a few moments of awkward silence after Adam's explanation that no one else is there. Bianca had eventually just forced her way in the house without another word, and Adam had silently accepted it because he didn't know what else to do.

Now Bianca's talking to him like they're, well, not quite friends, but friendly acquaintances. She supposes they are, mainly because she's not sure what else they could be at this point. They can talk civilly, albeit only about very boring things. This is the least trite thing she's said to him in almost a year, and she's not quite sure why she said it. It's probably mainly because she'd spent the better part of a month after kissing Drew thinking about it, and came to the conclusion that she really only kissed him because they never got to end their relationship properly. She figures sending him off to Katie, as the girl's personal savior, was the best way to end it. She feels good about letting him go, lifting the proverbial weight, really. Still, she's been coming back here, being nice to Katie, if a bit timid and terrified of causing a mental breakdown. She's never really thought about why, and she figures Adam's wondering, so she just sort of blurted out an answer.

"Well," he says slowly, "That's... unfortunate." His voice is low, steady, but he's totally unsure of the words. Almost like he can't quite connect them to the situation, and she just stares at him.

She looks away, staring at the game. The colors are brighter than she'd expected and the graphics are made to look like a comic book. It looks cool, she likes it anyways, and she's tempted to ask what game it is, but instead she slumps in her seat. One foot props itself up on the coffee table, the other staying on the couch while she curls her leg. He doesn't say anything else, and even though she doesn't ask why, she's tempted to.

"What game is this?"

Then again, she's always been impulsive.

Adam clears his throat, "Borderlands. It's not really new, but I haven't had the time to play it before."

She nods like she understands, but she doesn't really get it. She doesn't figure she needs to, so she just lets him play, half paying attention to what's going on in the game. Mainly she's thinking about Drew. She'd be lying if she said she didn't like Drew, she does. She really, really does. It's just, it's not in the way she thought she would. He's sweet, funny, attractive, she'll admit, but it's not there anymore. That spark that brought her to him, the initial pull, it's worn out. It's nice in a sense, because it means she can have a real relationship with him. She can talk to Drew, she can rely on him to help her when she needs it, and she can come to him with any problem in the world and he'll let her cry on his shoulder until her eyes are raw and she can't do anything but sit there.

"It's kind of cliché," Adam says, pulling Bianca out of her reverie, "you liking your best guy-friend and all."

She blinks at him, and really, like, really looks at him. The freckles spattered on his face, tell-tale "Gamers Tan", the way he's curved and soft but still muscled and rough around the edges. She likes the way the muscle's trying to take over his body, force everything else out and leave nothing but bone and the tightly strung sinew and muscle. She almost feels like she's watching the start of a long, but very interesting, movie. She's careful to avoid his eyes though, because she's always careful to avoid people's eyes, but she conjures them from memory for the sake of doing so. Blue, an achingly bright blue. Wide, open, honest; but there's something muddied floating just under the surface. There's always something dangerous lurking just under the surface.

"Yeah," she cracks the tiniest smile, and she forces back the warmth that floods her stomach and spreads when he smiles back, "it is."

ii: [it pulls together] at some point.

She's staying the night every day before she really registers what's going on. She's practically moved into the spare bedroom, and all Katie does is shoot her dirty looks whenever she's over. Bianca rolls her eyes, because, really, Katie doesn't get it. Katie's never going to really get it. Bianca doesn't mind that though. Katie needs Drew right now, and Bianca's the first to admit that she could be nicer to Katie. She's not going to, but she could, and she admits that. In her mind, that's all that really matters.

Most of the time she's with Adam anyways. Now that he thinks she's in love with his brother, he does a great job of helping her stay far, far away from Katie and Drew. She'd think it was cuter if Adam didn't send her a chiding look every time Bianca hugs Drew in front of Katie, or casually drapes herself on him. She can't help it, really, she's just sort of unconsciously touchy when she feels close to someone. She's really only used to connecting through sex, so of course she's touchy-feely when she's close to someone.

Today, for instance, she and Drew were in the kitchen. She was sitting on the counter top while he got himself breakfast. They were talking about something inane, and Bianca was really only half paying attention, when he nicked his hand on the knife he was using to cut a banana. Bianca, without really thinking about it, tutted at him, kissed the wound and dressed it for him. Afterwards she playfully hit him upside the head and called him a retard, he'd mused her hair, and Adam seemed thoroughly disappointed in both of them.

Currently, Drew is sitting next to Bianca on the couch, talking to Katie, Adam is on Bianca's other side playing Borderlands again. Drew shifts, so that his head is on Bianca's lap, and Bianca absentmindedly runs her fingers through his hair and musses it. Adam shakes his head at her, and she sighs. She knows he thinks this means more than it does, that it's nothing more than one of the many ways in which Bianca silent shows that, hey, she actually gives a shit. She's not sure she should tell him it isn't, because then Drew'll think that she really wants to get back together with him, and as hot as he is, it sounds totally exhausting.

"Bee," Drew mutters, turning the phone receiver away from his mouth while he does so. She looks down at him, and he smirks, "Katie says you're pretty."

"That is not what I meant Drew!" Katie screeches over the phone, and Drew laughs.

Drew pulls himself up and runs to the kitchen, Bianca still isn't used to how much he eats, and she lolls her head over to look at Adam. He gives her this disappointed look that curls her mouth into a frown because, really, now is not the right time for him to be disappointed with her. Sure, he has plenty of reasons to be disappointed in her, but fucking seriously; this is so not one of them.

"What's your deal?" She asks, a bit more bitingly than she'd intended, but whatever. It really doesn't matter, he's used to her by now.

Adam's mouth quirks half upwards, and it should be a smirk, but he still just looks disappointed. "Nothing, Bianca."

She should be getting angrier with him, for being disappointed and then being vague about why, even though she knows damn well why, but she's now distracted by what he called her. Sure, they're on first name basis, but him calling her 'Bianca' sounds way too... formal. She crinkles her nose at him, "Don't call me Bianca," she practically snaps.

He doesn't even look taken aback, he doesn't even bother looking away from the television screen for fucks sake, when he replies. "What should I call you then?"

He's exhausted with her already, she can tell, but still, she doesn't let up. She, first and foremost, yanks the controller out of his hand, because he's acting like a patronizing zombie and she doesn't like that. Secondly, she barrels herself into his stomach when he attempts to retrieve it, because she's not letting him tune her out quite yet.

"Bianca, seriously?! I will die! Well, Mordecai will, but still!"

"Mordecai," she scoffs, still wrestling with him to keep him away from the controller, "That's a really dumb name."

"Your face is a dumb name," he grunts, and Bianca snorts at him while they topple off of the couch.

It ends up with Bianca lying across his chest, and she quickly scampers up to pin his arms to the ground and straddle his stomach. He looks utterly annoyed with her and huffs, not even trying to uproot her, even when she takes his stupid beanie off of his head and puts it atop her own. "Seriously, don't call me Bianca. Adults and really annoying bitches call me Bianca."

"Drew calls you Bianca," Adam says as he raises an eyebrow, "which one is he?"

"No he doesn't; Katie does."

Adam considers this, before silently conceding that, yes, Katie does call Bianca by her first name. So, instead of arguing with her further, he sighs, "Alright, so what should I call you then?"

She thinks for a minute, before realizing that she doesn't really have an answer for that. "I dunno, try something."

They're silent for a minute, Bianca still straddling him, and him seriously thinking about what to call her. He starts to say something a few times, before frowning and muttering that it's wrong. She waits patiently, more patiently than she usually waits, and she only snaps at him once. It doesn't matter, because he ignored it and just rocked his hips so that she lost her balance for a second, but that's a record for her.

"Um," his face scrunches and she has to start chanting to herself that it isn't cute, "how 'bout, just, Bee?"

Bianca nods, slowly getting off of him. She sits back down on the couch, and watches him while he gathers his controller. He sits down and mutters that she's crazy, albeit affectionately, under his breath and she playfully swats him.

iii: [but not too much]

"Bee," Adam says softly while they sit on the dock at the lake the entire family, plus Bianca and Katie, went out to today. She'd forsaken her socks and shoes in favor of skimming her feet across the surface of the water.

She wriggles a bit, re-adjusting her shorts, and blinks at him, "What?"

"Never mind," he mutters as he quickly looks away from her and stares out at the lake. She can practically hear the questions teeming inside his head. He gulps, and Bianca feels a surge of guilt that she's not quite used to yet. He doesn't say anything else, and Bianca silently lets him know she's not proud of what she's done in the only way she knows how. She scoots closer to him, rests her hand over his, and leans her head on his shoulder. He just sighs. It's comfortable, even though it shouldn't be, but they're fine with that.

iv: [slow, like] y

She holds his hand for the first time when they're at the mall. They're walking around, Drew and Katie on their way to see them, mostly just window shopping. Adam's mom felt bad for Bianca, and she'd given Adam and Bianca money and told them to go shopping. They were eating ice cream, and maybe he didn't realize that he was flirting with her, he's always flirting, but she'd thought it was sweet. He gives her this smile; timid, sweet, shy, but somehow bold, and she'd ended up moving without really thinking about it. He's kind of cute... Then her hand shot out and grabbed onto his, and now he's staring at her.

He beams, takes a half step closer. He lets their hands hang casually between them, the grip comfortable, loose, but still mostly firm. They're supposed to walking, but somehow they end up just leaning against a wall; talking, flirting, hands still laced. The pad of his thumb is making soothing circles on her knuckles, and she sometimes tickles the sensitive spots on his palms as revenge. His hands are warm, gentle, but calloused and strong. She decides that she likes them.

Drew arrives alone, irritated, and Bianca loops him in for a one-armed hug that Adam joins in on. Drew sighs and grabs Bianca's free hand, she'd finished the ice cream and tossed it already. Adam starts to give them a disapproving look, but he notices that the grip is different. It's tighter, protective, and there's no playful knuckle rubbing or palm tickling. Drew babbles about Katie and Marisol, and Bianca really only pretends to be interested.

"I mean, she turns into a puppet or something around Marisol," Drew whines, and Bianca can't help but snort.

"I don't know if you noticed, bro, but she's a psycho, jealous mess around you," Adam retorts dryly, and Bianca squeezes his hand appreciatively.

Drew glances down at their hands, and looks like he wants to say something. Bianca and Adam both avoid his gaze uncomfortably, and Drew wisely takes this as a sign to not talk about it. Instead, he lets go of Bianca's hand and drapes it protectively around her shoulder. "Yeah," Drew sighs, "I guess."

"Maybe she has abandonment issues," Bianca says lazily, yawning while Drew and Adam both look at her. She shrugs her statement off, and the both of them allow their attention to refocus on lazer tag.

Adam and Drew talk amongst themselves, excitedly making up lists of people to make huge lazer tag teams and hold tournaments. Bianca just lets them talk, not saying much of anything. Adam brings up Imogen, Eli, and Fiona, and Bianca's surprised because she thought that Adam'd stopped talking to the Goth a long time ago. Apparently, however, she was wrong, because Adam starts texting him and making plans for a game this weekend.

"You're playing," Drew says to Bianca, eyes glittering mischievously.

Bianca snorts at him, "Not a chance, broski."

"Bee," she turns her head towards Adam, and he's intent on keeping her attention, eyes locked and mouth curved into a grin that makes Bianca feel a little dizzy, "c'mon."

She sighs, and relents, "Fine," and she tries not to grin when they cheer and hug her, but it's really hard not to.

v: and when they gotoo fast [they almost can't stop]

Bianca wishes she could maintain that the following events are not her fault, but they are, and she's not going to be able to erase these from memory. She's currently drunk, with Adam, and she's really, really sorry that this is how it ended up; but really, it was probably inevitable. She does feel bad though, maybe more than she needs to because when she tried to tell Adam that no, no; this is a bad idea he'd talked her into it. Maybe she's been a worse influence than she thought, because he couldn't maneuver his way around a conversation like that the last time she'd checked.

It's not so bad, she supposes. Adam's just playing his video game, sort of. He's pressing buttons and grunting, but he's not really processing what's going on. She'd made him her speciality treat, School Girl Panties, and she kind of regrets it because he's not a very heavy drinker. She's even feeling a little more drunk than she's used too with this, she figures she's just out of practice. As opposed to Adam, who never really got in practice.

He mumbles something about Bianca, and doors, and Bianca pretends not to hear it because she really can't handle hearing it just yet. They're in the living room at his house, Katie and Drew probably off fucking somewhere, and the parents out on a long date. She hadn't planned to get this drunk, but she figures they'll deal with it. So long as she doesn't move any closer, and the both of them manage to get distracted by something.

Adam, however, can't really focus on his game, and Bianca's inching closer. She reaches him, hand on his chest, and she coaxes him into lying down. She rests her head on his chest, and her eyes are lulled closed by his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it almost sounds like it's trying to escape. She swings her hips, so that they're squarely on his, and he gulps while he timidly rests a hand on her lower back. She chuckles, lips curling into a smile. This is the closest they've ever been, and he's practically choking on nerves. Something about that clams her down a little, like she isn't the only one who thinks that any sort of physical contact between them is going to end up being too much too soon.

She can feel his breath easing from his mouth and drifting to her forehead, uneasy and labored. He clears his throat, and asks her if she's alright. She just nods, and slowly moves her head so that her chin is propped on his chest and she's eye level with him. It's the first time in a long time that she's been able to make eye contact, and maybe it's just the alcohol, but his eyes are brighter than she'd remembered. Every doubt he has, every worry, and every little bit of fear and unease is surfaced in those clear, blue eyes of his, and it takes her a second to realize that she's probably got the same look. She'd been unable to feel her own heart hammering loud, clear, uneven, and erratic; but now she's acutely aware of each trembling beat. She licks her lips more out of nervousness than anything, and he almost breaks eye contact first. But he's better at trying to make things right than she is, so she's the one to break away.

She slowly manages to lean forward, her mouth hovering just over his, eyes locked on his lips instead of his eyes, but she knows that he's trying to reconnect their gaze. Her hand is gripping onto his shirt tightly, her nails digging into his skin a little bit. She's leaning forward, and something in the back of her mind is screaming this is not the way it's supposed to happen! but she ignores it. Or maybe it's just that she can't hear it over the sound of her and Adam's overactive hearts, and the pounding in her ears and blood rushes through her body at frightening speeds. She's thisclose to connecting, to feeling his soft, warm mouth against her own, but she's stuck. Somewhere in her head something's softly chanting, oh thank God, oh holy shit that was close, but a louder part's screaming at her angrily. Go! Lean forward, just do it already!

"Adam," she breathes huskily, and it doesn't break the little trance he's in like she'd hoped it would.

She licks her lips, and Adam seemingly regains his senses. He clears his throat, and she can feel the air grow less heavy with anticipation, because awkwardness is flooding everything and taking over. "I think," he says slowly, like he's weighing the consequence of each word, "I think it's time for bed."

She nods, and then laughs and whines because, "I don't wanna move."

Adam nods in agreement, yawning and sliding down the couch while Bianca resettles so that her head is on his chest. "Maybe we can just sleep here," he mumbles, trailing off while he starts to lose consciousness.

He's asleep well before she is, and all she does is stare at him for a few seconds. His chest rises and falls slowly, and Bianca can feel each movement under her steady hand and her own chest. She sighs contentedly, and she just barely resists the urge to lean forward and plant a small kiss on his lips. She doesn't, however, stop herself from pressing a gentle kiss to his collarbone, and then to his cheek.

vi: [and all those things they promised to keep quiet]

The next day, Drew makes them promise to not get that drunk again, without him at least. He feels left out, and Bianca should at least think it's cute, but she's just focusing on avoiding eye contact. Adam's not looking at her either, eyes shifting between Drew and the wall. They're sitting next to each other, pressed tightly, but somehow she feels they're not really making contact. Drew notices, because he's always been a little too good with these things, and frowns at them. "Seriously, you guys aren't two anymore."

Adam's the first one to look over, because he's always the first one to try and push past these things, "Bee?"

Bianca swallows her nerves and looks over at Adam, trying to force down every ounce of guilt and frustration burning it's way through her. "We should get ice cream," she says a little too brightly.

He doesn't buy the act, but he doesn't push her either.

vii: [well they're just too loud; aren't they?]

Sometimes she thinks they try too hard to keep to themselves. They restrict themselves to half-hearted conversations on the couch; Drew and Katie too close to them, and always on the precipice of reconciling but never being brave enough to just go through with it. She should feel bad, and she does, but more than that she wonders how they'd even talk about things. She gets it, really, that normal people can actually talk to each other about the shit they've done and need to apologize for. She should be crying to him right now, explaining that she didn't, still doesn't, have a single fucking clue about what's wrong with her, and back then she never really knew why she did anything and could he just, please, please, forgive her.

But she isn't, and she doesn't know if she's ever going to be able to. She licks her lips, ignoring Drew and Katie's giggles from upstairs, and she decides to at least try to talk to him about it. Everything, something, anything for fucks sake. She opens her mouth to talk, and he looks over her, only half paying attention. He's not even really looking at her, but she still freezes up, her throat too tight to speak, and she can't even look at him anymore. Her eyes dart away, and she curls away from him while she forces herself to stare at the t.v screen. She curses herself, because, really she's never been anything better than a childish fucking coward, and that's all she's probably ever going to be; and Adam really doesn't deserve to have to put up with even half of her bullshit.

Still, he places his hand on her knee. She doesn't really look over for a few moments, but when she does his smile is grim and it doesn't quite reach his eyes. She thinks it's cliché that they're so much better at talking when they aren't really saying anything, but she goes with it because, really, it's easier this way. She gives him a half-hearted smirk, and things are from fixed between them, but at least they both know that neither of them are ready to take the steps necessary to really fix it.

viii: [but sometimes] silence really does fix things

It's been too long since she's had a real conversation with him, and, honestly, she just wants to get back to that. So, of course, she tells Drew to clear the parents out for a night, and brings over her special drink. She makes half as much as she remembers making, because she knows this time around that she's not quite ready to drink as much as she used to, and Drew brings Katie because it makes things easier. Katie's hands twitch and fidget the entire night, and Bianca knows that all the girl is thinking about is the stash she probably brought with her. She's lucky, in a way, pills are easier to hide. They don't have a scent, and if you put them in the right bottle everyone just assumes you're supposed to have them.

She almost wants to tell Drew that Katie's probably popping pills, but she doesn't because Katie's pretty far down that road already and really, tonight's all about having fun anyways. Besides, she knows where Katie is, and she knows Katie's not ready to come back any time soon. So instead she focuses on making the drinks and pretends to not notice when Katie leaves to go to the bathroom three times in a twenty minute time span.

But in another twenty minutes nothing really matters anymore, because she's sad and cold and maybe she's already a little drunk, but that doesn't matter either. She's still drinking, and God it's stronger than she remembered. Even after her most recent taste, or maybe she just made it stronger. She doesn't know, and she's not too inclined to figure it out. She's more concerned with sitting on the couch, watching the television show Adam put on while Drew and Katie kiss and act all couple-y. Adam's next to her, warm, engaged, and happy.

Maybe she's just letting the alcohol work for her again, but she still grabs his hand and she spends the night laughing with him.

ix: [and sometimes it's just that nothing works anymore]

It's fine for a while until Adam realizes that she still can't quite meet his eyes. He has every right to be pissed because what kind of a fucking person is she anyways, but she can't help but feel angrier than she deserves to be. So when he corners her after school one day and asks her, "Just what the fuck are you doing anyways? Because you sure as hell aren't after Drew anymore."

She stares hard at the ground, her voice edgier than it needs to be, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bee," she's still not looking at him, but she knows he's frowning. She knows his eyebrows are pulling together, his neck is straining while his throat tightens and he tries to say things they're just not supposed to talk about. "Bee, what's wrong? You won't even-"

"What, Adam," her voice is sharp and strained, she looks up at him but she still doesn't quite meet his eyes.

He narrows his eyes, taking his typical half step back and shoving his hands into his pocket. He should be yelling at her, calling her out; but this is as far as it gets, and everything rests on her to fix it, give up, and concede to not being a total bitch. "Never mind," he mumbles, but it's so much more vicious than it needs to be.

She watches him leave, and she feels like she should be trotting after him and babbling bullshit explanations. Instead, she clenches her fists, steels her jaw, and tries very hard to pretend that everything'll be fine in a few days anyways.

x: [it's funny] to have all these thoughts

She's twisting the hem of her shirt around her finger, watching her aunt move boxes filled with her things to the front door. She's watching her, and she almost wants to help but she feels like she's nailed to the door frame. What used to be her room is behind her, and her aunt keeps muttering things under her breath and shooting her dirty looks.

("Stupid, ungrateful little brat.")

Bianca swallows the lump in her throat, and for a brief second her fingers stop twisting the fabric, "I'll miss you," she says almost softly, wondering if it's even a lie.

Her aunt scoffs, stopping long enough to stand up and look Bianca in the eye, "You're just as much trouble as your mother was."

She's suddenly twelve years old again; screaming, throwing a tantrum, everything blurring and clarifying all at once until it resounds in her own last words on the subject, "I am not like her!"

Her aunt scoffs again, "Could've fooled me."

Bianca glares, turns on her heel and pointedly slams the door behind her. Her mother always preferred to try and leave subtly, she didn't like people to know when she was going, or if she was coming back.

xi: [even if they get you nowhere]

It's well past midnight, she's drunk, and Ron-Ron's occupied in the room next door when she calls Adam. She's lying down in the "Guest Bedroom", face pressed into the pillow, and head spinning in six different directions all at once. She's not really sure how she managed to find a phone, let alone dial the numbers, but she figures it really doesn't matter anyways.

"Hello," his voice is thick with sleep, and she's too drunk to pretend that it's not somewhere between cute and sexy.

"Hi," she slurs, and drags it out because she's never been sure if she was one of those girls or not, "hi, I'm drunk."

"I'm hanging up."

"No!" She swears she can hear his pause when he moves to end the call, and she licks her lips nervously. "Don't- Just, c'mon."

"Why?" He asks, somewhere between irritated, concerned, and confused.

She licks her lips again, and she rolls onto her side while unwanted tears brim her eyes and force her to sniffle and wipe them away, "'Cuz, 'cuz I'm sad. 'Cuz I'm sad, I'm drunk, and I'm sorry, and my mom's a bitch and a cunt and a whore, I don't know who my dad is because he's a fucking asshole, and my aunt kicked me out because she's just like my fucking mom-"

"Your aunt kicked you out?"

She nods, before she remembers that he can't see her, and then she sniffles and chokes a sob while she giggles, "Yeah, yeah she did. We kind of hate each other, and it's not really like, family hate."

He swears under his breath, "Where are you?"

"Ron-Ron's," she yawns, "I'm sleepy. No, tired. Kid's say sleepy, so I'm tired."

She can practically hear him roll his eyes, "Whatever, just stay there, okay?"

She nods and yawns, "I'm going to bed."

"I should probably put off picking you up until the morning," he says more to himself than anything, but she agrees with him anyways.

They say their goodbyes, and it's sort of sad, but she almost feels happy.

xii: these things were never important

She squints, eyes not really adjusting to the light. Her stomach is growling, Ron-Ron's inside still asleep, and Adam's sitting on the steps while Bianca leans next to the door. Her hands are in her pockets, she's actually fully dressed, and Adam's leaning back against the stone ledge that the rail is mounted on. "Well," he sighs, "what're you going to do now?"

Bianca shrugs, kicks at the ground and stares at her red converse, "I dunno," she mutters.

"I mean, are you staying here?" Adam looks up with her, blue eyes swirling with concern, pity, and a few other emotions that Bianca's not quite sure how to deal with.

She pointedly avoids his gaze, and he seems to understand why, "Probably," she replies.

The silence following is a lot less awkward than Bianca thought it would be. She still looks out towards the road, and Adam looks down at his hands. She wonders if Ron-Ron actually will let her stay with him, he's the only one of her friends with their own place, but he's not the most reliable of people. Besides, he's still drinking, and partying, and Bianca's not sure she should be around that right now. Granted, she does still drink on occasion, but Ron-Ron's definitely still doing it regularly.

"Maybe, you could stay with us," Adam mumbles, and Bianca's head snaps in his direction and she ends up staring into his hopeful blue eyes.

She looks away quickly, but she knows he still caught the smile starting on her face, "Maybe."

xiii: [but it's still nice to have them]

Mrs. Torres agrees faster than Bianca thought she would. The few days it takes to move her stuff from Ron-Ron's, which was easy enough considering it was still boxed from when her aunt kicked her out, are blurry. It isn't until she's lying on the large bed, with the new sheets and comforter that Mrs. Torres bought her because she's happy about having an actual girl in the house for once, that it really hits her. She's living in Adam's house now. He's just down the hall, Drew's room is next to Adam's, and the three of them are now sharing a bathroom. She sighs, feeling her body relax while something rest heavy in her bones and lets her settle further into the soft bed. Her eyes are closed and she's more than halfway asleep when she realizes that she's happy.

She's woken up later, she's not sure how much later though, by a knock on her door. Two taps, restrained but still firm, loud enough to wake her up but not to irritate her. She figures it's Adam at the door and calls out, "Come in."

The door slowly opens and Adam slides in, a small, timid smile on his face. "Hey, comfortable?"

She nods, and she feels a small smile of her very own tugging at her lips, "Yeah."

"They're making dinner," Adam walks into the room a little more, "figured I should wake you up."

She stares at him for a few moments, and then she scoots to sit on the edge of the bed and pats the spot next to her. "Sit," she says.

He looks unsure, but after a few seconds of silence he shuffles over and sits down next to her. He gives her a small, timid smile, and she simply stares at him. "So," he says slowly, "still liking Drew then?"

She grins, before cracking out into a wild laugh and tossing the blanket over her head in an attempt to quiet it. Adam chuckles, sounding unsure as to why she's laughing, and she just laughs harder. By the time she's slowing down, she's curling into a ball on her side, hooking around Adam without really noticing. Adam, however, notices, and tries to subtly move away. She snakes her hand out from under the covers and grabs onto his arm, gently, and manages to peak out at him without lifting the comforter.

He licks his lips, a small, confused expression tightening his face and pooling in his eyes. She blinks at him, her thumb absentmindedly making small circles on his arm. "Does it matter?"

He opens his mouth to answer, stopping himself, and then tries to say something again; but his mom calls out that dinner's ready. Bianca cackles again and wriggles back under the covers and rolls over just enough to burry her face in the pillow. Adam grips the edge of the bed, leans back, and laughs. She can feel his warm back against her legs, and she thinks that they should just stay upstairs by themselves for a while. Adam leaves before she can figure out how to tell him this, and she tries to smile but it feels a little awkward now that he's left the room. She climbs out of bed slowly, after Drew yells at her to eat, and decides to sit across the table from Adam to give him just enough space from her.

ixx: [and sometimes] the wrong people are cautious about them

She's in the kitchen making her special drinks, a celebration for herself, Adam, and the newly single Drew. Drew keeps smiling at her, making jokes, flirting, and everything seems ten thousand times more sexual than it actually is. She's not sure if that's because Adam's glaring at Drew behind his back, or if it's because she can't quite get Adam to look at her anymore.

She hands Drew the drink with the smallest smile possible, and tries to get Adam to join in when she hands Adam his own drink. Adam just looks at the ground and mumbles a thanks, and Bianca's chest tightens while a frown takes over. She feels a little scorned even though she has no right to. "To freedom!" Drew says, and they clink their glasses and cheer even though Drew is the only one who can really mean it right now.

Bianca brings her drink to the living room, wondering just where the hell Drew and Adam's parents keep disappearing to anyways. It's weird, they think she's responsible just because she's spent most of her life raising herself. She doesn't bother to correct them, so long as the boys don't destroy anything, and the house is relatively clean, their parents don't bother asking questions. She appreciates that a little more than she should. She decides she isn't going to think about it too much, she's got too much booze and a Drew that's most definitely about to get too handsy for her tastes.

She's settled alone on the couch, and she's damn pleased to keep to herself right now. All she wants is to settle down, and probably watch some re-runs of Jerry Springer. If she can find any, it's always been her favorite show to drink too. If not she'll make due with the recorded episodes of Archer, as Adam's taken it upon himself to record all of them, and it's probably the easiest show ever to make a drinking game out of.

Adam, however, decides to join her, and she rolls her eyes and moves her legs so he can sit. He props his legs up on the coffee table. Bianca decides to twist so that she can rest her legs over him and hang them over the arm of the couch. She's lying on her back, face towards the t.v, and Adam's hand trying to rest comfortably without touching her. She sighs at him, already a little buzzed from the pre-celebration drinks and therefore annoyed with his awkwardness. She grabs his hand, picks it up, and simply puts it on her lower thigh. Adam practically flinches and she can't help but feel offended. "I'm not a fucking leper, you know."

"Not that there's anything wrong with lepers," Adam mutters, taking a few gulps of his drink almost simultaneously.

She glares at him, and sits up, in the process having to almost sit on Adam's lap. He practically embeds himself in the couch in an effort to get away from her. "Jesus fucking Christ, Adam, I'm not diseased!"

He relaxes a bit, "Sorry," he mutters, "I just thought..." he trails off, deciding to become engrossed with his drink instead of continuing his thought.

She rolls her eyes, and, okay, maybe she had more than just a few pre-celebration drinks. Considering she's now moving herself directly onto his lap, straddling him, in fact, just so that he can't possibly ignore her. However, Adam, being the world champion at ignoring things, manages to still give his drink more attention. She scowls, "Are you fucking kidding me," takes his drink from him, puts it on the coffee table, and stares at him.

He looks at the t.v over her shoulder, watching Archer, and blinking in an effort to pretend that he doesn't notice Bianca on his lap. She sighs, cups her fingers around his chin, and forces him to look at her. He sighs this time, exasperated, "What?"

She sucks in her cheeks a bit, "What's your problem with me?"

He scoffs, "Seriously, Bee?"

"I might miss talking to you. Sort of," she sniffles. Yes, definitely drunk, above and beyond drunk.

He crinkles his nose, "I understood the word talking," he makes an exaggerated hand gesture of exasperation, "that's it."

Thankfully, she's not above incoherency drunk. "You. Won't. Talk. To me." Well, more or less anyways.

He rolls his eyes, "We're talking now."

She shakes her head, "We haven't really talked... In a while."

He sighs, "Well, that's probably because you wouldn't even look at me for a while there."

She shakes with a small bout of silent laughter, grabbing onto the front of his shirt and curling her body so that her face burrows in his chest. He has a point, it was all her fault for a while there. Shit, booze provides a little too much honesty. "I might've sort of fucked it up, huh?"

He nods, "I mean, one of us was going to."

She shakes her head at him, "Nuh, no, it was going to be me." She pulls back, and grins at him, "So I guess I gotta fix it, huh?"

"What is there to fix?"

She frowns at him, and leans into him again. She turns her head, her forehead pressed into the crook of his neck. "I think I might sort of like you," she breathes.

He shifts and pats her back, "You are so beyond drunk it isn't even funny."

She laughs and kisses his neck. He sighs and lets her carry on, shifting them so that she's curled against his side. She snuggles up to him, and fuck if she cares anymore because she's really getting tired of this adolescent bullshit anyways.

xx: [but other times] the right people just. listen.

She wakes up in the morning with a hangover, a rumbling belly, and an uncomfortable Adam trying to wriggle out from under her on the couch. She rests a hand on his chest, as his movements were upsetting her stomach, and groans. "Seriously, if you move I will die."

He rolls his eyes at her, "Don't be such a Drama Queen, you're just hungover."

Shit, she might be rubbing off on him. At the very least, he decides to comply, and rests his own hand on her lower back. She sighs and readjusts so that her chin is digging into his ribcage, and she's looking up at him. "So, did I say anything interesting last night?" She knows damn well what she said, this is just a test for him.

He shifts uncomfortably, "Uh, sort of."

He doesn't elaborate, but she doesn't mind because she's not sure what to think about last night now. She crosses jagger off of her list of things she can drink solo, and wonders if she should even think about following up last night now. The thought makes her panic a bit, so she decides to pace shrugs, pretending to not remember anything, and decides she'll just let Adam bring it up if he feels like it. "I need food," she mumbles, turning her head and facing the television.

Somewhere on the floor Drew groans in agreement, and Adam sighs, "Well, if you get off me I can go make pancakes."

"No!" Drew whines, "Dear God, not pancakes. Make waffles."

Adam lets out a small chuckle, or an amused scoff, Bianca can't really tell, "What?"

Bianca mumbles something in agreement, and soon she and Drew are chanting "Waffles" in unison. Adam eventually gives up, and Bianca goes with him into the kitchen. She pulls a Sprite out of the fridge while Adam gathers the ingredients to make waffles, before she remembers that she needs to eat first. She sighs and decides to sit on the counter next to the waffle maker, putting the Sprite down next to her. She crosses her ankles, legs swinging absentmindedly while she watches Adam cook.

He frowns to himself, sucking in his cheeks a bit and furrowing his eyebrows while he works. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it and sighs. She thinks about asking him what he was going to say, but decides against it. Eventually, he's got the waffles cooking on their own, he turns to Bianca, and says slowly, "So, last night, you sort of said..."

She motions for him to go on with her hand, "I said..."

He sighs, looking up towards the ceiling exasperatedly, and then looks down at the ground when he continues, "You said that you might sort of like me."

She shrugs, "And what if it wasn't just the alcohol?"

He shrugs, sighs, and pulls himself up onto the counter next to her. "I don't know, what if I don't feel like wasting time on a maybe?"

She worries her lower lip, shifting so that she's leaning towards him, her hand starting to inch towards his, "Does it matter?"

He hops off the counter, and slowly turns back towards her, "I mean, since this is still technically hypothetical, I don't have to answer that, right?" She just shrugs, and he looks at the ground, "Bee, if we do anything on the premiss of a maybe, it won't work out."

"Maybe it's just not the right moment yet," she mumbles.

"It doesn't feel like there ever is a right moment with us."

He walks away before she can comment. She pushes herself further back on the counter, hugging her knees to her chest and wondering what she should do next. She thinks he might be right this time.

xxi: [but this silence is so]

It's so hard for her to put anything into words anymore, not that it was ever easy to begin with. Right now she's sitting in her bed, the little flask on her nightstand half empty. She decides to lean over the edge, hands thrown over her head, fingers touching the ground a long with the tips of her hair. The blood is rushing to her skull, and as it causes the already soft noises to fade she wonders if Adam's ever going to come up to see her. She figures it's just wishful thinking that he'll be the one to start the conversations now, but she can't help but hope.

She doesn't even know what she'd say if she had to be the one to start talking. She doesn't think she has anything that's light enough to pass right now. Just heavy topics weighing in her mind; a plethora of unasked questions and awkward ones to match. She thinks maybe she could just start something inane, the weather, school, or why he picked the name Adam.

She shakes her head, she knows she's too drunk now. She figures she should start barricading herself in her room if this is the point she's going to keep going to. She really thought that being away from her aunt would help her out, but maybe the problem's a little more complicated than that.

xxii: [confining]

He doesn't barge into her room, he just opens it silently, and without asking permission. She's sitting cross legged on the bed, her purse in front of her. She'd been debating about getting a new pack of cigarettes when he walked in, and now she's staring up at him. She's half appalled, half appreciative, but mostly just confused. She's sober though, so at least she knows it won't be a terrible experience. Whatever experience should happen, anyways.

Adam leans against her door, hands stuffed in his pockets, staring at the floor, "So um," he scratches at his nose, and Bianca finds herself touching her face without really intending to, "do you really...?"

She blinks at him, unsure of where he's going with this, and feeling her voice lower and tighten with the uncertainty of her next words, "Like you?"

He nods, opens his mouth to say something, and ends up blushing while he stares at the ground some more and pushes his hair back. He clenches his jaw, scuffing the carpet, still not looking at her. She blinks a few more times, leans back and wonders what to say next. If she should say anything at all. She does, or she doesn't and she think she does, or she does but she thinks she doesn't but says she does anyways. She's not always sure of what she thinks anymore. Still, she decides to not think when she answers; except of course to ask herself the same question.

'Do I like you, Adam?' "Yeah," she mumbles, pulling her legs to her chest and not looking at him as much as he's avoiding looking at her. "Yeah, I do."

"Well," he pushes his hair back again, something she just barely manages to see from under her eyelids, "in what way did you mean that?"

Her mouth opens to respond, but she quickly shuts it. She sighs and lets herself fall flat on her back as a response. He walks over, and she feels him sit on the edge of the bed more than she sees it. He lies flat next to her, staring up at the immaculate ceiling. Her hands are above her head, resting on the pillow, and his are pressed on his stomach. She doesn't look over at him when she mutters, "In what way do you think?"

He chuckles at her, that smug boy chuckle that sounds a little too arrogant. She thinks that, though it still sounds pretentious and cocky, she can handle the way it sounds when Adam does it. One of his hand lies flat on the bed next to them, "I don't know," he says in a tone that suggests he does know.

She doesn't answer, she just grabs his hand.

xxiii: [but maybe it's just that they need to]

They're teetering on this awkward line between friends and more than friends. Standing on the edge of a small cliff, but still too afraid to take the final leap. At least, that's how Bianca sees it. Sometimes she almost grabs his hand in public again, almost lets herself flash him secretive smiles. She always stops at the last second and she doesn't know why, doesn't know what's holding her back anymore. Was it really such a short time ago that she held his hand for the first time? Why can't she do it anymore?

She decides to test herself one day, for the sake of making sure that she just isn't genetically incapable of forming solid relationships. She's in the mall, with Drew and Adam. Drew's gone off to flirt, Adam and Bianca are waiting in line for ice cream. She swallows thickly, turning towards him, looking him in the eyes for once. "That game you were waiting for, is it out yet?"

He looks startled, pleased, and cautious all at once. He tries to meet her stare, which she's proud of herself for keeping solid. "Borderlands 2? No, not yet."

She nods, mostly to herself, and manages to keep the conversation going. Light, simple, easy. She'd forgotten why this was so hard in the first place. She feels comfortable when they start talking about how much they're starting to hate Facebook, for different reasons. Bianca feels attacked, Adam feels like it's too impersonal. He says something about people losing their ability to communicate face to face, and she finds herself agreeing. She figures this is going well enough to test her boundaries a bit more. She takes a half step towards him. He notices, but he doesn't say anything.

They have their ice cream when she takes a bit further, and they're talking about music now. He's explaining some band she's heard of but never listened to, and she's talking about hip-hop because she's never been able to let it go. Their hands are brushing already, they're walking so close together, so she tries to subtly tilt her hand towards his, and link fingers. It's just the middle and pointer finger at first. Casually linked, and Adam gives her a soft smile that makes her heart flutter in the most ridiculous way.

He's the one to take the leap to actually holding hands while they approach Drew, and she's grateful for that.

xxiv: [go slow]

She thinks they find their rhythm not too long afterwards. Drew's still being Drew, looking for the next girlfriend, when Adam and Bianca decide to watch a movie together. Bianca's surprised when Adam suggests they go to a movie theatre out of town. She declines, figuring she needs to stop being a child at some point. He gives her this look, a small whimsical half smile, and Bianca's knees weaken just a little bit. She returns the smile, and has to remind herself to actually shut the door before she changes.

Drew nods to them on their way out, smirking like he's just been let in on the worlds greatest secret, and in a way Bianca supposes he has been. She links fingers with Adam, before slipping her hand into his, as they head down the street. They decide to walk, because the theatre's not that far away, and Adam's the kind of hopeless romantic that enjoys these kinds of things anyways. She's starting to see the appeal, not that she's going to admit it. Out loud, at least.

They get to the theatre with just enough time to spare, in line for the only kind of movie Bianca likes other than horror films. It's not quintessentially romantic and cheesy, or even particularly funny. It's a little dark, wrought more with character development than plot. It's in French, and she doesn't usually like these things, but it's French Canadian so she makes an exception. It's not new to anyone in the theatre, she suspects anyways, except Adam. She'd picked it because it's her favorite, and she wants him to like it.

"C.R.A.Z.Y?" his tone is filled with curiosity, not the condescension she'd been fearing. "What's it about?"

She shrugs, "It's easy to understand, hard to explain."

He squints at the description in the pamphlet the theatre offers on the occasion of playing films like these. "I wouldn't have guessed you'd like these movies."

She shrugs again, picking his hand up and holding it carefully between her own hands. "I like sad movies," she says simply, fingers running along his palm in feather light patterns.

He smiles at her as they get in line for tickets, and she's grateful that he doesn't question why. She almost feels the need to explain herself more, but she doesn't. She just draws patterns on his hand, and prods him with a few questions about his favorite kind of movies. He likes comedies, mainly, action movies as well. He says he can handle the occasional romance, but not for very long. Drama's aren't usually his thing, but he makes an exception if they're good. His favorite movie is Big Fish, because even now he's not fully sure he understands it. He hates over dramatic movies, and he's not sure about sad movies yet.

He squints at the pamphlet again, "There's a lot of David Bowie in here."

She nods, "There's some pretty awesome use of Bowie."

"Why this movie," he asks as they slide into seats that are far enough back to see the screen, but not so far back that everyone's head gets in the way.

She shrugs as she sits down, "I don't know, maybe it has something to do with his parents."

When the movie starts she grabs his hand, and pads her thumb across his knuckles. She's seen it a few times, but she's just as absorbed as he is. She doesn't cry, because she's never really been a crier, but she does get tears in her eyes and she wipes them furiously before they can come out. If Adam notices he pretends not to, and Bianca's glad. When it's over, neither of them gets up. People file out of the theatre, talking about how good it was, or how shitty it was, and they just stare at the screen. Bianca's the one to look over at him. She grins, and he grins back. "So, did you like it?"

He nods, and leans in to clean up the smudge from her eyeliner with his thumb. "Yeah, it was good. Sad, but good."

On the way home they point out their own constellations, and Adam makes up the stories because he's always been better with words. He asks her if she still dances out of nowhere, and she actually stops in her tracks, still holding his hand. She gives him a small, sad smile, and says she doesn't really have time to take dancing seriously anymore. She doesn't know why, but her voice cracks around the words, and she frowns at herself. She tells him that her aunt thought dancing was a waste of time, and stopped paying for her dancing lessons after the first year of living with her. He asks who was paying before her aunt, and she tells him that it was her grandmother before she died.

"Where's your mom," he asks quietly, standing so close to her that it feels like they've built themselves their own little world to talk about these things in private.

She shrugs, and before she can change the topic he's got his arms around her. She blinks a few times before hugging him back a little too cautiously. Something about the way he shifts his arms, squeezes her just a little tighter, convinces her to latch on. She's the one to pull away, but she still holds his hand, and she jokes that, maybe if her parents had hugged her as a child, she wouldn't have been such a bitch. Adam only pretends to think it's funny. She's glad that he understands she doesn't handle pity very well.

xxv: [and then] the grand finale

The first time she holds his hand at school, no one really bothers to ask questions. They're just sitting in the theatre with Fiona, Imogen, and Eli. Fiona and Imogen are playing footsie, sending each other shy, flirty glances while they both try to hold a conversation with Adam and Eli. Bianca's next to Adam, half listening, half just watching Imogen and Fiona. They're like their own indie film and it's half irritating, half adorable to Bianca.

Fiona, wearing a letterman jacket that Imogen bought her for no apparent reason, pulls the jacket up around the two of them to steal a kiss. Bianca wonders when it became so easy for them, and half as an experiment, half out of jealousy, inches her hand towards Adam's. She slips her hand into his, letting their hands rest on his leg. Eli gives a smirk for a half second, but doesn't say anything. Fiona lets a proud smile cross her face, and Imogen sends Bianca a giddy grin.

She keeps holding his hand for most of the day, even draping herself off of him while they stop to talk to friends in the hallways. No one wants to ask, and she's okay with that. For the most part, Adam seems to enjoy it, but she wonders if he's just trying to keep her happy now. She figures she'll test it after school. Drew finds them halfway through the day, and upon seeing their linked hands, he smirks. "So, the rumors are true then?"

Adam grins and shrugs, Bianca's the one that answers, "So you do have herpes then, Drew?"

Adam nudges her, and she gives him a small secret smile. Drew grins at the both of them, "Just don't let mom see you, she's already pissy enough as it is."

She convinces him to leave a little early, and maybe she's still not done being a bad influence, but he doesn't seem to mind. They decide to walk back to his house, not caring that it's sort far away. They keep their hands locked, and her nerves are eating her alive right now but she doesn't care anymore. They're giggling when they barge through the door, and Adam leads her to the living room. She falls back onto the couch, curling her legs up to her chest while he sits next to her.

"Should we watch a movie?" he asks, the energy ebbing from the both of them, the giddiness from before twisting into something awkward and heavy.

She shakes her head, "No, let's just watch t.v."

He nods, and shifts towards her ever so slightly. He props his legs up on the coffee table, one hand over the arm of the couch and the other just resting on his leg. She stares at it, his hand that is. It doesn't move towards her, doesn't creep up her own leg. She wonders, even after a whole day of what she thinks is bravery, why he still maintains that careful distance between them.

She wants to scoot closer, but the way he keeps himself from her on the couch makes her wonder if she's pushed her luck for the day. Maybe there's only so much they can do before one of them is going to just give up. She figures it makes sense, that they can only do so much at a time. Still, she wonders, if that's really all they can do, all she wants to do. Hold hands in public.

She realizes that, though she's not really paying attention to it, she's still staring at his hand. It's strong, she decides. Calloused and rough, almost as if he's designed the look specifically. She feels a pang in her chest, realizing the lengths he has to go through to prove his masculinity. She wants to apologize, but she doesn't have the right words for it. She chews the inside of her cheek, looking over the rest of him.

He's compact, but firm. It's just a simple t.v show on screen, but his face is pulled in tightly; concentrating on what's going on. She should feel a little insulted, the amount of attention paid towards the t.v instead of her, but she kind of likes studying him. It's interesting for her, to see the way he reacts and absorbs things. The small smirk that flits across his face whenever something happens that he finds amusing, the way his jaw tightens when he's irritated. The subtle way he tenses and relaxes with each passing emotion.

She scoots closer to him, boundaries be damned, because, right now, she wants this boy around her at all times. He doesn't shy away from her, he readjusts so she can curl under his arm, and it makes her think that he was just trying to give her the space he thought she needed. It's something he'd do, think she wasn't ready for anything beyond hand holding considering their history.

She shakes her head, because this isn't about anything that happened before. This is now, the couch, him. This her trying to make a new relationship, a new past for them, something they can look back on without cringing. She's not going to try and make anything that happened before right, she doesn't even know if it's possible, but she figures she can at least offer new memories. Still, she's worried. About screwing everything up, about not being able to handle this.

Adam looks over her, a cautious smile curling his mouth. She gives a similarly careful smile, and his falters a bit. He shifts away from her slightly, and she feels herself panicking a bit. "Bee," he says turning down the t.v, "you don't have to- we don't have to..." he trails off, frustration etched in his features as he looks for the right words.

"Happen," she offers softly.

He nods, "Yeah. I mean, if you're not comfortable..."

She shakes her head, presses against him again. She rests her head on his ribcage, just below his chest, and curls her arms around him. "I'm fine, just... nervous."

He curls his arms around her, and she can't stop the grin from plastering itself on her face. She's so ridiculously happy, but it doesn't stop the quaking in her body. The unshakable uneasiness, that nothing they do will be simple after this. She knows that if they decide to go further, not even just in the physical sense, they'll have to be careful. It's a delicate situation to be in, and she's not entirely sure she can handle it.

She pulls herself up from Adam, and he blinks at her, confused. She locks eyes with him, and manages to position herself to sit on his lap. Her knees are locked next to his hips, and she plants her hands on his knees. He starts to ask her what she's doing, but she's already committed to not talking about this. She just leans in slowly, giving him time to catch on and maybe set the speed.

He lifts a shaky hand to cup her cheek as her lips connect with his. He's more nervous than she is right now, and she gets it, but she doesn't let it slow them down. She surges forward, pressing into him tighter, fingers curling in his hair. She trails her mouth from his, down his jaw, planting soft kisses on his neck. He moans under her, shifting, threading his hands through her hair, hand grabbing onto her lower back. She nibbles on the hallow of his neck, shivering with delight with every sound he makes in the back of his throat. She giggles a little, and he manages to flip them halfway over, one hand still secured on her lower back, the other moving to the back of her neck. He flicks the shell of her ear with his tongue, scrapes his teeth over it and she practically melts on the inside.

She moves in to latch onto his neck and he stops her again, "Bee," he says, voice a little unsteady, thick and hazy, "I don't know how far we'll be able to go."

She smirks and kisses him slow, soft, and practically melts into the sensation. She sighs a bit, entangling her legs with his, "Well let's just see what happens then."

He gives her the sort of private smile she hopes to be the only girl to see. He takes control a bit, latching onto her neck and leaving little love bites that have her practically jumping onto him, biting her own lip to quite down. His hand slips down her back, across her hip, squeezes her rear, and she grips onto his shoulders so tightly she thinks she scratches him through the fabric of his tee-shirt. He bites down onto the sweet spot of her neck, and she can't hold back the moan.

They hear the door click open, and quickly he pulls himself away from her neck. They sit back on the couch, her still leaning on him, but in a far less risque manner than what they were previously engaged in. Luckily, Drew's the one to walk in. He smirks at them, and asks if they mind if he takes over the t.v for a while. Bianca only half listens while they argue playfully. She's more focused on the dopey look on Adam's face. She hides her grin behind her hand. She's not sure what's going to happen, how well they're going to handle it, or if they'll even be able to handle it; but she's alright with not knowing.

A/N: So compared to the Badam that I usual write, this feels really cheesy. But they've both changed, and I feel that I should change the way I write them a bit to match that. Although, I'm proud I didn't make them jump into a relationship right away, I feel like I should have made this a bit longer. A little less sweet at the end. Whatever, I'll come back to the ending another time. For now, this. Also, sorry, it's not my best. But I guess I'm happy with it.