tomorrowland

"You're mine," he growled into my ear. "Not Niall's, not Zayn's, not Louis', and especially not Harry's. You're mine, and I will do what it takes to make you mine."

"Are you sure you're not out of time?" I looked at him over the rim of my glass filled with beer.

"I might be out of time, but I can fuck you better than any of them."

"Alright," I placed my glass down. "Then prove it."

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7. listening to your touch

Liam and I were standing together, but just barely enough to touch. We were in the middle of the lake, away from the marco polo games. The water was just hitting my belly button as the sun beat down on us. I knew he was looking at me, especially now since I was almost naked before him. I silently wished my powder blue bikini was covering just a little more skin, but I couldn't help but look at his muscled arms. How his stomach created a beautiful pack of abs, and his bronze tan was almost shining. 

I pushed myself to look away.

"Tell me," I started, moving my hands over the top of the water. 

"Tell you what?"

I reached out towards his arm. "This," I let my fingertips glide along the scars from this morning. I'm sure the wounds were painful, but he didn't show any type of emotion. "When did this all start."

He pulled his arm away. "A long time ago."

"I'm willing to listen."

"By the time I finish we will have wrinkly skin," he flicked finger fulls of lake water in my direction, trying to lighten the mood.

"Liam!" I giggled, but he stopped. "Please, I want to know."

"Bo," he started, but as soon as he did I wanted to take my name from his mouth.

"Why do you call me that?" I asked interrupting.

"What? Bo?"

"Yes. I hate it. I don't like when people call me that. My friends do it because they know I don't like it. Eric's my brother so he says what he wants to say. Call me Bost--."

He found my arm and pulled me close, quickly. "You know what I don't like? When people especially girls called Bo, interrupt me," he pushed me away. "I'll call you whatever I want to call you." He took a breath looking out to the wooded areas beyond the lake. "I started following the wrong crowd during a tour almost three years ago. They got me hooked on drugs, and I became lost. I enjoyed the state of not caring when I was drunk, and then when I was at a house party I watched a girl in the bathroom cut herself with a blade. It intrigued me that someone could hurt themselves without feeling pain. So I wanted to try."

He took his wet hand and ran it through his brown hair. "At first it was pain, that's all I did feel. Then the urge to keep doing it became stronger. I wanted to know the reason, so I kept doing it. I was caught by Harry then, and he reported me to management. I was put through counseling and medicine trials but nothing ever worked. I had to find better areas on my body and soon I started to scar my shoulder and lower stomach."

I looked at the places he mentioned. His shoulder still carried raised wounds and the scar on his stomach ran past his swimsuit. 

"Eventually, management stopped trying to help after they realized I was happier and less stressed after hurting myself. They only set rules for me, no cutting before a show unless absolutely needed and no cutting anywhere someone could see clearly. So what did I do? I hired a damn good cosmetic girl, and she covered every scar. I'm not proud of what I did or how I become, but then again I can't believe that something so small has gotten so extreme over curiosity." He shook his head and then looked at me. "Anyways what's your big secrets?"

"Well," I made a nervous laugh. "I've never used drugs, but alcohol definitely--."

"Boring," Liam smirked.

"I cheated on my SATs," I put out there.

"SATs?" 

"Yea, it's a test you can take when getting close with high school. I think they're a lot like your um, what's it called? Uh A Levels?" 

"Oh," he blankly said. "You can cheat on those?" 

"No," I smiled. "I only said it to make things uncomfortable."

"Ridiculous," he muttered before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. I placed my hands on his bare shoulders and my fingers touched the scars lined on his skin. My touch sent shivers throughout his body as he continued to look into my eyes. "Amazing," he started.

"What?" 

"Usually girls are running when I tell them about my past."

"Some girls," I started, getting closer to his shoulder with my lips, "can't take the truth." I let my lips touch his scars and he gasped. 

"You can handle the truth?" He asked when I lifted my lips from his skin.

"Yes," I said simply. 

"Then what would you say if I told you one more truth?"

"Depends on the truth," I looked up into his eyes. 

"Okay. I want to fuck you so badly right now, in every single fucking way do I want to slam myself into you, and this of course if the complete truth." A smile appeared on his face as I'm sure the color washed from my own. 

"Oh." I breathed. 

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