~Author's Note~

I just wanted to say thank you guys so much for all the reviews, favorites and follows, as always, and say I'll never forget this little one-shot series of mine, so not to worry, lol. Thank you guys again and let me know your thoughts about this—super random idea I had while listening to a song—and I'll see you guys for the next one. Hope you enjoy this one guys!

(Also, Zombies 2? A-maz-ing. I, personally, loved it more than Zombies 1, but you didn't hear that from me, lol.)

Prompt:
(Inspired By) Sing by Ed Sheeran
Notes:
Human AU, but only in the fact that everyone in human, everything else (like Seabrook and Seabrook's ways) is the same.

Genre: Romance, some Humor, tiny bit of Angst
Rating: PG-13

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19
one thing led to another (now she's kissing my mouth)

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She's sitting at the bar, watching her friends attempt to karaoke in the corner, twirling a plastic straw around her glass. It's an almost-pathetic attempt at Ed Sheeran, their voices reaching way too high of pitches every chorus, their movements clumsy and stumbling. She chuckles when Wynter almost takes a dive off stage, saved by Willa and Bree's hands wrapping around her arms and pulling her back, all three of them laughing into their microphones.

The crowd is too drunk to care, there for a good time, not a long time, filled with mostly boys their age from the local college, all slick smiles and prying eyes. All five of them might've went to the same college, but it didn't mean they tolerated the boys dormed there one bit.

Her eyes wander for a moment, taking in the various, and by no means glorious, sights around her.

There's a group of boys she knows all too well in the middle of the room, laughing obnoxiously and chugging their drinks one after another, growing louder and louder after every new round. To her left there's a group of giggling girls pointing at said boys, whispering and betting against one another, knowing only one of them will go home happy while the rest call her a slut behind her back out of jealously.

On her right there's a girl and a guy talking softly to one another, their hands inching closer and closer on the bar, their drinks half gone. That sight makes her smile. Meeting a guy at a bar wasn't on her bucket list, but maybe it was possible there were some good ones out there.

"You should be over there with them," her best friend says as he takes a seat on the bar stool next to her, bumping his shoulder into his.

She rolls her eyes, glancing over at him, his hair messier than it was the last time she saw him. His shirt is wrinkled, and there's a dust bunny hanging off the back of it, almost as if it was pulled and thrown aside in a hurry.

She raises one eyebrow, "Where have you been?"

He shrugs, quiet. Then he smirks and before she can even object he's reaching across, snatching her drink, and taking a long swig. She groans, muttering under her breath as he drinks, but he is successful in making her smile. It was something stupid he had done since they first became friends, and she wouldn't have him any other way. It was him.

His face twists after he finishes his drink, sliding it back towards her, nothing but ice cubes clinking in the bottom of the now empty glass. "God, Ads, not even a real drink?"

"Thirsty much?" She shoots back, narrowing her eyes playfully. His cheeks glow pink and she knows he knows she knows. She can't help but laugh, the sound loud over the rest of the noise around them, because the thought of him doing that is absolutely hysterical to her. "Oh my God," she says, struggling to keep her laughter under control, "you totally just had a qui—"

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Who was it?"

He sputters, searching for anything to say that isn't the obvious truth, anything at all. Then, as if on cue, a girl whose in their Intro to Theatre class with them every afternoon, walks by, runs her hand across his shoulders, leans down to whisper something into his ear, and then takes her leave.

She loses it. "Oh my God, Wyatt, her? Her?"

"Addison, I swear she's not actually that bad—"

"You are such a player," she finishes, giving him a look that's half-humorous, half-serious.

Wyatt opens and closes his mouth before exhaling and shaking his head, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. He tries to hide his smirk, but she knows him far too well for any of that. "I can't believe I'm even friends with you."

He chuckles, "You wouldn't be able to get through Theatre without me, though."

She thinks about it for barely a second before nodding, humming under her breath. "That's one of the only reasons I'm still keeping you around."

"For that and my good looks, of course," Addison scoffs, and it's then that the bartender notices her empty cup and asks if she would like another. Wyatt interrupts before she can answer, and her soda is replaced by a bottle of beer a few seconds later.

"Come on, Ads," he pleads, swiveling on his stool to face the rest of the bar, packed to the brim with food and drinks and too many non-eligible bachelors to choose from. "Let loose, have some fun, get a little crazy."

She thinks of her hair, and being called crazy by her parents before she had left for college, everything she had owned packed away in brown cardboard boxes. She remembers putting both her hands on the steering wheel, clutching the leather tight, and then never once looking back. She remembers meeting Bree at the first gas station on the highway, Bree getting out of her car and climbing into Addison's so that she could hug her, remembers crying before wiping her eyes, grabbing a snack, blasting some music and getting back on the road.

She remembers being called crazy by a rowdy group of freshmen after they had tried to corner her outside study hall, far too drunk, far too aggressive, and she had told them no.

You're crazy, one of the boys had slurred, his friends chuckling beside him, you'll never get anyone better with that freak hair of yours.

She remembers Willa and Wyatt, sister and brother, coming out of nowhere and fending the boys off, shoving them away, Willa with harsh words and Wyatt with harsh actions, remembers how the three of them had stayed with Bree watching Netflix and eating ice-cream until there was no more ice-cream left.

She remembers being introduced to Wynter and becoming fast friends with her because she just understood more than anyone else. Wynter didn't come from a calm home, she came from a broken one.

She remembers being called crazy when she was younger, by a father too careless, and a mother too caring. She remembers being called crazy, and never wanting to be called crazy again.

"I don't do crazy, Wyatt," she whispers, barely audible.

He reaches over, his hand closing around hers, already knowing where she had accidentally gone to. They're both quiet for a moment, allowing the clamor around them fill their ears for a while. It's only when Wyatt turns suddenly to the left, the corner of his lips twitching, that Addison breaks the noisy silence.

"What's wrong?"

He chuckles, standing from his chair. "Nothing's wrong. I just think that tall, dark and handsome over there wants to talk to you one on one."

Addison's brows knit in confusion, "Who?" She goes to lean around Wyatt but he stops her with a hand on her shoulder before turning her back toward her drink.

"No peeking," he chides, before reaching over her and stealing her bottle, taking a long swig. He meets her eyes as he lowers the bottle to his side, giving her a wink. "I'm going to go check in with the girls. Be a little crazy tonight, Ads. You deserve to have some fun too."

He smirks at her a final time and then he's gone, taking her beer with her.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes at his antics before looking over to where the bartender stands, about to ask for another drink when somebody takes a seat beside her. She turns her head to greet them, and is met by a charming smile and kind eyes.

"Is this seat taken?" He asks and she shakes her head, lost for words.

He was . . . cute.

Very cute.

"Where was your boyfriend going?"

Addison's startled by the question, but her shock at the question is enough for words to come back to her. "He is definitely not my boyfriend," she says with a laugh, glancing back at where he's sharing a round of shots with the girls by the karaoke machine. "He's my best friend."

The stranger nods, drumming his fingers on the table. There's a silver bracelet hooked around his left wrist, and a necklace hanging over top his black tee-shirt, dog tags that are dented and battered hanging haphazardly from the middle of the chain. She can't read the letters imprinted into the metal, but the stranger saves her from thinking too much about it. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Addison's heart leaps, just a little bit. "Sure."

Two bottles of beer are placed in front of them a few seconds after he asks the bartender, and he's popping hers open for her before even thinking of his. "Are you from around here?" She asks him, trying to place him somewhere, because she would remember seeing him at college if he went there, black hair, extremely tall, always smiling—she doesn't remember ever seeing him around.

The thought almost makes her sad.

"Nah," he dismisses with a short chuckle, "my sister had a cheer competition in Fairborne, but my dad could only get a hotel here." He takes a quick look around the bar before his eyes land back on her, flickering over to the curled strands of her white hair. "Seems like I should be going to Seabrook University instead of Eastwood."

She glances over to the group of girls still gossiping, one of their friends gone from the table. "Lots of pretty girls here huh?" She says, waiting for the final blow. Of course this was all a joke. One of the boys in her grade probably bet him to do this, a crisp hundred if he could make the crazy girl—

"Only one."

The blush that follows his words is hard to hide, and his smile grows wider at the sight of it.

He holds out his hand. "Zed Necrodopolis."

Addison takes his hand in hers. "Addison Wells."

They shake hands, but neither lets go right away, both lingering. The tips of his fingers are slightly cold from the neck of the beer bottle, and her hand feels too warm. Something shatters from the middle of the room and the spell is broken.

She pulls her hand back like his is fire, "I uh," she stutters, struggling for words, any words. "How old is your sister?" She blurts out, and his smile doesn't waver.

"Fourteen. She'll be fifteen way too soon," Addison chuckles, taking a sip of her drink. "How about you? Any siblings?"

"I'm an only child. Though if it's anything like what I witness with Wyatt and Willa over there, then I'm grateful for it." She nods towards where the two are arguing about something, Wynter and Bree trying—and failing—to break the fight up.

Zed laughs, the sound making her heart beat faster. She liked how he laughed, how he talked, so carefree yet determined, almost goofy underneath. "Zoey is the best little sister a brother could ask for." Addison smiles.

Zoey. What a pretty name. She was probably adorable.

"Do you wanna dance?"

Normally, she would say no. She would politely decline, and this would be where the conversation ended. Instead, she nods, and he holds out his hand, and she takes it. He brings her out to the middle of the middle room, where some people are shuffling awkwardly to whatever music her friends choose next, and then her friends see her out on the dance floor and dedicate their next song to her, and her and Zed are dancing the night away.

They're laughing and joking and sharing stories as they dance.

His hand touches her waist, hers finds his chest, and soon enough they end up close enough to kiss. They're breathing slightly heavy, and there's grins on both of their faces, their cheeks rosy. Zed's hand goes to cup her chin, tilting her head up, and he starts to move in—

Someone knocks into them, jolting them from their moment, alcohol spilling all across the man's shirt. Zed and Addison both look over as the man curses, and it's with a sinking feeling in Addison's gut that she realizes it's one of the boys that had called her—

"Freak!" The boy shouts, "You spilled my drink!"

Zed immediately moves in between them, "Last I checked, you knocked into us."

"Last I checked, you owe me a new beer," the boy seethes back, and before Addison can intervene, the boy's fist meets Zed's chin. Zed's head snaps back but he recovers fast enough to punch the boy right back, and he's too drunk to keep his balance and falls to the ground, cursing and muttering.

Zed turns to Addison, the left side of his chin turning purple. "Come on," he says to her in a whisper, taking her hand leading her away before the boy can stand up or call on his friends, and they're hidden in the darkened hallway between the main room and the storage room before Addison can object.

He leans back against the wall, sighing, his shoulders slumping as soon as they're out of sight. "I'm sorry," she says to him, taking a step toward him. His eyes meet hers in the darkness, barely able to see.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. He shouldn't have called you that." She takes another step closer. "You're not a freak," he says, sounding . . . sad.

She's close enough that she can reach up and drag a finger across the curve of his chin, following the bruise from start to end. They're almost too close. Her heart pounds. His eyes don't leave her, even in the darkness when neither of them can see, they stay on her, and she feels like the only girl in the world.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, and then she's capturing his lips in hers. Her heart is still pounding as she tangles her hands in his hair, as his hands find her waist and anchor themselves there, bringing her closer, both of them smiling into the kiss.

Crazy, her mom says, shoving her toward the steps.

Crazy, her dad shouts, standing up from the couch.

Crazy, her cousin says, twirling a strand of her hair in warning.

Crazy, that boy says, his hands reaching out for her.

Crazy, they all say, white hair far too abnormal for such a normal place as Seabrook.

"Beautiful," Zed says as he tucks a stray strand of her hair, "crazy beautiful."

Addison's heart doesn't shy away from the word when he says it so honestly, so sincerely, so full of awe and wonder and amazement. Her heart grows, her stomach fills with butterflies, and she's thankful she went a little crazy as she grabs him by the shirt and tugs him into another heated kiss.

if you feel you're falling
won't you let me know…