She | h.s

forty-five

"Oops," I hiccup, stumbling through the threshold of my dimly lit room. Elio holds me up as I watch my feet, finding it utterly fascinating that I still had my basic motor skills in my intoxicated state.

"Dais," He whispers, grabbing me and hoisting me up. He sits me down on the bottom of the steps, locking the door and pulling his coat off.

"Sorry, I didn't know I was falling!" I laugh.

"It's okay, but you are way too fucking drunk for me to just drop you off here." He says, putting his shoes away.

"You wanna stay?" I smirk at him, tossing my head back and he chuckles, shaking his head and making his way into the kitchen.

It takes everything in me to stand, and I smile to myself triumphantly as I wobble into the kitchen. He stands by the dark area, the refrigerator light illuminates his face beautiful as he grabs a pitcher of water, not noticing me there.

I lean over, placing one hand up against the wall and the other on my hip, trying to act as sexy as possible while also having no train of thought, my brain muddled with alcohol.

He notices me and has to do a double-take before bursting into laughs. "Are you trying to seduce me?" He laughs.

"That—" I hiccup again, "Depends." I say.

"Is it working?" I throw my head back, probably in the unsexiest way possible and pulling my hair back. I run my cold fingertips against my skin, his eyes following. His face remains stern as I try my hardest to act like I know what I'm doing.

"Hm?" I ask, my lips curling into a subtle smirk.

"Okay, let's get you to bed Casanova." He smiles, breaking from his serious demeanour and I frown playfully as he hands me a glass of cold water.

"Drink," He says, making my brows shoot up teasingly. "Please." he adds on and I nod, taking a sip.

"You gotta get to bed, you are a lot more drunk than I think you realize." He says, stepping forward and making me walk backwards.

"That depends, are you coming with me?" I whisper into the shell of his ear, my hot breath against his neck.

"Let's get you to bed," He repeats, taking my hand and walking me up to my room. I set the glass down, crashing into my bed in pure exhaustion. I arch my back, stretching as I let the most obscene moan leave my lips. He laughs at this, walking to my closet and tossing me a shirt.

"Thank you," I say, stripping off in front of him. I toss my shirt to the ground, unclipping my bra and discarding it, leaving me topless in front of him, and I notice his eyes dart away before shifting awkwardly.

"I can go step out while you change," He offers, swallowing thickly as I stretch my arms out, aware of the breeze in my room and my hardening nipples.

"Now you're shy?" I laugh, and he laughs along.

"I'm being a gentleman," He teases and I roll my eyes.

"Bare minimum," I joke, slipping the shirt over me. I unbutton my jeans, slipping out of them and letting out a sigh of relief.

"Come here," I say to him, patting the spot next to me as he picks my clothes up, throwing them into the hamper before following.

He hooks his arms around my waist, pulling me down into the bed and I squeal as my head hits the softness of my pillow, laughing.

"Tonight was fun," He says into my skin, and I hum out in response. My hands find their way to the back of his neck and I play with his soft brown curls. He smells like liquor and vanilla, and I can't help but wonder what Harry would smell like if he were in his position...