~ One ~

"Did you pick up milk on your way over here?" The thick British accent yelled out literally the second I stepped over the threshold. I almost wanted to laugh. It really wasn't anything new. 

"Nope. I don't like milk, remember?" I shot back indignantly. I kicked off my pink converse into the shoe closet without waiting for his response. It was typical bickering between the two of us and it's what keeps a smile on my face.

"Fine! Then you're coming with me to get some!" His voice wasn't as distant as it had been and I could hear his steps thudding down the carpeted hallway. 

Tristan obviously hadn't bothered to take his shoes off, despite the fact I had set up the shoe closet specifically so he'd take his shoes off and stop stinking up his flat. I put my bag down next to the stairs and glanced up, my eyes meeting Tristan's. 

I was almost taken away at how green they were. Just like I was every single time I saw him. It seemed as if I always forgot how beautiful his eyes were when I wasn't looking into them. 

The second my boring brown eyes met his, it was like the world completely stopped. 

The crystal, emerald eyes would twinkle, as if he was laughing at me. Then I would force myself to look away, before I did something I would regret. 

It was hard, those eyes were hypnotizing.

"Hello? Taz? Come back to Earth, please. I'm hungry," Tristan snapped his fingers in front of my face and I jumped back to attention.

"So demanding," I said under my breath.

"Heard that, Taz." Tristan teased as he poked my cheek. I glowered at him while he simply grinned that adorable grin. I quickly re-arranged my facial features.

"You have something green in your teeth," I commented with a bright, innocent smile. I tucked a strand piece of bland, brown hair behind my ear as I continued to just smile at him.

"You're lying," he called my bluff, poking me once again. 

I let out a totally (un) lady-like groan of annoyance and crossed my arms. "What gave it away?"

"You always twitch your right eyebrow when you lie. Plus you pushed your hair behind your ear," Tristan grinned and reached up to ruffle my hair a bit. I tried to glare at him but it ended up in a choked laugh. "Let's go. I need milk and then we can pick up some McDonalds or something."

He didn't even wait for me to reply before he was walking out of the flat and down the stairs. 

Typical Tristan.

I re-opened the shoe closet and saw my spare slippers in the corner. Most people would laugh at the fact that I have different pairs of shoes at Tristan's flat, but I practically lived there when he wasn't touring. Believe me, he needed a babysitter. I grabbed them and slipped them on my feet. I patted my butt to make sure I had my phone before following Tristan out the door. He was already in the passenger seat of my car.

His fingers thumped against the glass of the window, his mouth moving along to the lyrics of a song. His feet were at home on my dashboard, the seat reclined just a bit.

I made my way to the driver's seat. I pried the door open and slid in. I Won't Lie by Go Radio reached my ears and I rolled my eyes, noticing that the keys were already in the ignition.

"Hungry, aye?"

"You know it. Now, onward my noble steed! To the grocery store!" Tristan demanded like a small child before reaching over to turn up the radio just a bit more.

I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I drove the well-worn road to the grocery store. 

See, Tristan could do that to you. He could make you feel like the happiest person by just saying a few words. I don't even know how he did it, but with just a look, a smile, a few words.. He could make everything okay. The best part was that he didn't even know he was doing it. 

He might be in a world known band, Saving Summer had been his entire life the past few years, but he'd always make time for me. It didn't matter where he was, he'd do anything for me. And I'd do the same for him.

"You do realize we're parked and you're grinning awkwardly at the people passing by, right? I'm surprised no one has pressed charges yet, you look like you're plotting their murders." Tristan's laugh pulled me out of my thoughts.

"What? Oh. Yeah. Sorry." I said slightly sheepishly, although I knew Tristan wouldn't judge me. He never did.

"What's going on in that mind of yours?" He asked as we walked into Tesco's together.

"Just writing a story," I replied simply. Tristan seemed content with my answer, probably because it was a typical response.

I was a writer. I wrote about everything, but I'd always think it out in my head before putting it down on paper. Anything and everything gave me inspiration for a story. I'd never want to admit it, but there were a few times when I found myself only thinking of Tristan as I wrote a chapter of a romance story.

We reached the entrance and I turned to Tristan. He was dressed in his typical skinny jeans, black v-neck and dark green hoodie. His sandy brown hair was up, but in more of a 'I'm too lazy to style it nicely' than a 'I spent an hour and an entire bottle of hair gel to get it like this' way. His green eyes were sparkling dangerously, his defined jawline facing the entrance. I was almost taken aback by his pure gorgeousness. You'd think being his best friend for the past three years would make me immune to it, but I wasn't. "Pull your hoodie up."

"Yes, mum."

"Don't sass me."

"Yes, mum."

"Ugh, you're annoying," I teased as he bumped our hips together. He winked cheekily at me before prancing down the aisles, pulling random dance moves. I apologized profusely to a lady he almost ran over before running after him. My fingers wrapped around his wrist and I tugged gently so he was looking at me. "Are you twenty or two? Jeez, you're not supposed to be attracting attention. Quite the opposite, mister popstar."

"I know. It's just really fun to see you annoyed, Taz." Tristan joked as he poked my cheek over and over again.

"Seriously, am I your friend or am I your babysitter? I'm starting to think your mum introduced me to you just so I could keep an eye on you while you're in London." I sighed with a slight sliver of a smile gracing my lips. 

"Yup," He popped the 'p'. "Get Miss Sensible Writer to take care of her only son, who is in fact older than Miss Sensible Writer."

"Loser," I stuck my tongue out at him.

Tristan chuckled. "Yeah, look who the mature one is. The one sticking out her tongue. C'mon, let's get the milk so we can get lunch."

"Lead the way," I let go of his wrist and watched him walk down the aisles, while whistling under his breath.

~'~'~

"What do you want?" I questioned the brunet who was currently tapping away on his Blackberry. 

"Uh, Big Mac and water," he spoke distractedly, fingers fiddling with the tiny little buttons. I almost groaned in annoyance, but instead drove forward a bit so I could speak into the order-thing-majig-yeah. 

"Welcome to McDonalds, what can I get you today?" The lady asked in a bored tone, quite obviously tired of her duties.

"Big Mac, bottle of water and a medium Dr Pepper, please." I ordered and listened to her give me the total. I held my hand out expectantly. Tristan dropped his credit card into my awaiting hand without so much as a glance away from his phone. I decided to tease him as we waited for his meal. "So your phone is more interesting than your best friend? Yeah, I see how it is."

"Oh, totally." Tristan rolled his brilliant green eyes at me before smirking and going back to his phone.

"Who are you texting?" I inquired.

"No one," he deferred the question. I clenched my teeth, knowing he was probably texting a girl. My mind ran through names and faces of girls that Tristan had dated or shown interest in. The list was much longer than I would have liked.

Why was he so oblivious? Why couldn't he just decide that I was exactly what he needed? I was always there for him, I always listened to his problems. I knew every little thing about him. He'd told me multiple times that I was the only one he always trusted. He knew I wasn't there for the fame, that I could care less about the money and the attention.

So why did he never look at me the way he looked at those other girls? The ones who didn't know him. They knew he was nice to look at, they knew he was talented, they knew he was rich. But they didn't know him like I knew him. Yet he never saw that, he didn't see the fakeness in those other girls that I could see.

"Here you go. Have a nice day!" The worker recited, probably saying those words a thousand times a day. I smiled at her and took the bag, throwing it onto Tristan. He muttered something under his breath, but simply smiled at me when I raised an eyebrow at him.

"So, I think you need to get your license soon," I commented as I drove the way back to his flat. 

"I'm workin' on it. Just never home to take the test. Plus I have you to be my chauffeur," he teased. 

"Yeah, well you have two more weeks of being home. Get your act together, boy." I hit his arm lightly with a grin lighting up my face.