Hayley's POV

"Pick up pick up pick up..."

"Hey," Taylor's voice greeted with obvious cheer. I smiled at the sound of his voice.

"Hey, stiff," I giggled. "Uh, got any plans for today?" I asked.

"Uhh, no. I don't," he answered. "What's up?"

"I'm kidnapping you for the night," I giggled. "Big party tonight. I'm taking you and you can't fight it."

"Okay," he chuckled. "Never wanted to."

"Ooh, stiff not so stiff, huh?"

"Bet your fine ass I'm not!" Taylor laughed. I joined him.

"Alright. I'm picking you up at seven. If you're not ready by then, I'm judging you."

"It's six," he snickered. "You won't have time to judge me, let alone the chance."

"Is it me or did you get bolder during the past four months?"

"What can I say? You rubbed off on me."

"Obviously. I'll see you at seven, stiff. I love you."

"I love you too, rebel."

***

The music was loud, just how I liked it; just how I remembered it. I tugged on Taylor's hand as I tried to lead him to the dance floor.

"Hold on!" he yelled over the music, a laugh escaping him as he tried to drink the last of what was in his cup.

"C'mon!" I begged. "My favorite song is coming up! I can feel it!"

"All of them are your favorite songs!"

"Dance with me!"

"But I'm not even done with my--"

"I'll get you another, just come on!"

"Alright, fine," he laughed as he got up and walked with me to the dance floor where we danced like crazy. I almost forgot how bad of a dancer Taylor was, but I couldn't judge. I wasn't a good dancer either. The skills wasn't what mattered to me. It was Taylor; it was the two of us having a blast, just like before. Me and him laughing as we danced together, unable to stop grinning... It was all worth it. I already knew how things would turn out after dancing. We would grow tired, get drunk, dance some more, and pass out at either my house or his house. Either way, we were together on everything. We were meant to be that way: together.

Eventually, we did grow tired and decided to stay for a few rounds of drinks. And like before, we got intoxicated. We found our way to my house. We were laughing at moments we shared in the party. Before I knew it, I was pressed against the wall in my room, Taylor and I making out.

"Just like old times," I giggled through my breathlessness as Taylor trailed kisses down my neck.

"Yeah," he said huskily. He slid his warm hands up my shirt as he kept his eyes on mine. "Just like old times." With that, we made our way to the bed and had each other there for the remainder of the night. Every second was worth it. It was all just as I remembered it as. Drunk or sober, it was amazing.

We continued until we both were exhausted. I rested my head on Taylor's chest as it rose and fell steadily. He was already asleep. I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to. I wanted to watch Taylor sleep, his face calm and peaceful as ever, even though his face was dampened with sweat and his curly hair was a mess. It still looked good on him.

I watched him sleep as I pushed his hair away from his face. He was adorable when he slept; he was also handsome. He's always handsome.

"Goodnight, stiff," I whispered and planted a kiss on his lips before cuddling into him again. I felt his embrace tighten around me a little more.

"Goodnight, rebel," he whispered back.