Thats Not my Neighbor. (Francis x y/n 1st person)

A Fancy Drink.

Yall for this we're going to pretend that if you drink alcohol, and then you eat the effect will still be in action. I just don't wanna have you guys drink a shit ton after the meal lol This'll be a little different from the other chapters. Anyway hope y'all enjoy!

————

The drink packed a nice punch with every sip I took. The sweetness didn't overpower the alcohol, and vise versa.

The glass is rimmed with white crystallized sugar and a whipped cream - like substance.

"You wanna try?" I offer. He shakes his hand, "No, it's alright."

"You sure?" I take another sip of the sweet beverage.

He hesitates, "Fine." I smile contently and slide over the glass. He takes a nicely sized gulp and he raises his eyebrows.

"Damn, that's good." He hands it back.

"I know right? I bet you wish you had one." I teasingly wag it in his face.

"Hm, maybe. But how're we going to get in if we're both drunk? the security would probably kill us for 'suspicious' behavior."

"Oh, yeah." It's silent for a minute.

"Just be sure to let the security know I don't have my papers and to call the secretary so we aren't killed or anything." I remind him.

"Sounds good. Now, enjoy yourself. You don't get out a lot." He drinks from his water, and I indulge in myself with the sugary drink.

"Did you always live in New York?" He asks, swirling his finger around the rim of the glass.

"Yeah. Born and raised. You?"

"No, born in Georgia but moved to New York, literally right before the doppelgängers started to appear."

"Damn. How was Georgia, before you moved?" I lean forward, intrigued.

He looks towards the ceiling in thought, "Well, I was there until I was about 11, but I don't remember much." He takes a sip, "We lived in a bright yellow house, with a white roof and doors, and there was a lot of greenery surrounding it. That's really all I remember, it gets fuzzy around that time."

"Hm, that sounds nice." My mind grows more cloudy with every sip I take.

"When we're older and married we should get a house like that." I blurt out.

He purses his lips together, clearly not expecting that.

"Are you drunk?" He correctly guesses.

"Getting there."

"Hm. Well, what do you want to eat?" He asks. My eyes flutter down to a menu, in which I push aside my drink and look up and down the countless meal options.

After a long minute of consideration, I decide on chicken tenders and french fries. Just kidding, I picked a meal consisting of steak and sautéed vegetables. I mean, really? You really thought I was going to pick something so simple at a fancy restaurant? Get outta here.

Francis goes with a grilled fish with roasted potatoes and some vegetables on the side. Originally he wanted the same thing as me, but I told him that we both get something different so we can try each other's food. I mean, it just makes sense.

The waiter rounds back to our table and we give him our order, him inputting our words into a notebook. He walks off and he leans towards me. Not for a kiss or anything, more as to ask me a question.