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Aven Brooks

"Jesus, Mariana. How much did you drink?" Zayn stops me from stumbling into the hedges of the front steps. He keeps my arm slung over his shoulder while his hand stays clasped around my side.

"I'm fine..." I whisper as we walk up to the front door.

He enters the code to the house, holding me with one arm so I don't lose my balance with these heels on. In seconds, I hear the front door open while he's helping me inside.

"You shouldn't have let me drink this much."

"Shh..." He hushes. "Your father is sleeping and I don't feel like running into security."

He shuts the front door behind us, locking it up. Our voices echo through the foyer of the mansion, black marble floors quick to pick up the tap of my heels. It's dark, everyone is asleep. Including my parents.

"What time is it?" I hum as he starts bringing me to the stairs.

"Two in the morning."

"Fuck, that's late..." I whine.

"You didn't want to leave the club even though you knew how long of a drive it was to get home."

Getting to the massive set of stairs, he turns to face me before bending down and throwing me over his shoulder. I don't even question it anymore. This becomes routine when I've had too much to drink. I can never make it up these endless stairs when I'm plastered. One time I almost slipped over the railing at the top.

Thrown over his shoulder, I dangle like a rag doll as he quietly brings me up the stairs. My arms hang down with my hair, my eyes shutting. We always have to be secretive about my drinking. My parents know we go out to a bar after a task, but they don't know how plastered I get. They have a lot of trust in Zayn to get me home in one piece.

Because if he doesn't, my father will kill him.

Not figuratively either.

At the top of the very long flight of stairs, Zayn carries me to the south wing of the mansion. It takes a while to get there, given he won't let me walk on my own. My heels will also echo this entire place, it's easier if he just carries me. I nearly fall asleep from how long it takes to get to my room at the very back of place, climbing another set of stairs along the way. Eventually, I hear him open one of the large double doors that enters my large bedroom.

"Alright," He ventures in, bringing me to the king-sized bed deep in the room. He bends over and flips me down at the foot of the mattress, my hair fanning the expensive duvet while my arms spread out. With my legs dangling off the edge, he starts unclasping my heels.

"Never thought this would be apart of your job description, huh?" I chuckle, shutting my eyes.

"Why have you been getting so drunk lately?" He asks while pulling off one of the heels.

I furrow my brows while keeping my eyes shut. "I'm always like this."

"Lately it seems like you just want to drink until you pass out. It's making my job really annoying."

He gets the other heel off, tossing it away as I hear it slide across the floor. He grabs both of my ankles and turns them up on the bed so I curl into a ball.

"You want under the blankets?"

"No, I'm too warm." I keep my eyes closed while curled up on my side. "I'll stay here."

"At the end of your bed?"

"Why is it so hot in here?" I whine into the bedding.

"Get some rest, we have a long day tomorrow." I hear him mumble in strictness.

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