Eyes Bright, Uptight {EDITING}

// It's Innocence Lost//

{I apologize for how downright filthy this is. PLEASE play Happy Birthday by Altered Images, and Gods and Monsters by Lana Del Rey. xoxo}

George's POV.

My hands groped Claire's thick thighs, keeping her steady.

"Just a little to the left," she murmured.

I followed her request, trying to appease her demands.

"Almost here...I'm so close George," she grunted.

Claire squealed. "Got it!" she said, fastening the streamers to the edge of the ceiling.

"Cool," I answered her, grabbing her hands and easing her curvy frame from the top of my shoulders.

Both her and Tinsley were both essentially dwarves, and I didn't trust Claire's hand-eye coordination to balance herself on a chair. Plus, I got to touch her and that was nice.

So nice.

"Thanks, G," Claire said, high-fiving me.

Matty was in the corner of the room, blowing cigarette smoke out of the window, his dark eyes not leaving Claire for a minute. I didn't know what was going on between them, but she seemed a little less hypnotized by his presence, and he seemed a little less vampire-like around her. I didn't mind this at all.

I didn't know what I wanted from her. She was my best friend, along with Matty. If I hadn't known her since she was born, and I had just met her at a club or some shit, I would totally put the Bedford Danes magic on her.

She was makeupless right now, in this classic Ramones T-shirt, black-and-white polka dot leggings covering her curves, espresso hair tied up in a pony tail that whacked me in the face about a half-dozen times.

And she was still the most gorgeous girl I had ever laid eyes on.

"What time's the party, again?" Matty ventured.

We were hanging out, jamming a little when Claire had asked me to put my vertical skills to use. Of course, Healy fucking tagged along.

"Eight," Claire said, her pouty mouth smiling at him.

He returned her smile. "Can't wait to see you all dressed up."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't disagree with him. Matty and I had finished the fine tuning on our costumes last night. We were going to be the baddest bitches there.

Claire hid her smile behind her hand as she strutted around the room, gathering empty packets of balloons and streamers. Tinsley entered Claire's apartment, multiple brown bags of glass that clanked together.

"Whoa," I let out, taking the bags from her. "What's all this?"

Matty smirked at Tinsley and puffed on his fag.

"I can legally buy alcohol now, I went a little overboard," Tinnie shrugged a tiny shoulder.

After I sat the bags down on the kitchen table, Claire took Tinsley's hands in hers, and the two hopped up and down together, squealing.

"Party day!" they screamed in unison.

Chronologically, Claire McDaniel was twenty-three and Tinsley Hann was twenty-one. Mentally and behaviorally, they were both twelve.

"Apparently, Matty and George have some pretty sick costumes," Claire told her friend.

Tinsley made a "pffft" sound. "Not nearly as cool as ours."