↘︎ sangfroid ( grayson dolan )

1.0

+CALISTA OMIATA
THE PRESENT TIME

"LIQUOR"

"have you ever been ice skating before?" grayson asked me once we were seated on a bench near the rink, tying up our skates. with my head bent looking at my feet as i fiddled with the laces, i rolled my eyes at his silly question: which he undoubtedly knew the answer to.

"no."

"this is going to be so entertaining then," he laughed, nudging me as a scornful look arose on my face. he looked so full of glee at the possibility of seeing me flat on my stomach on the freezing cold ice.

"i'm not going to fall over if that's why you're getting so excited," i stated confidently. "i do pilates so i've got great balance."

"we'll see," he smirked, slapping my ass as i got up from the bench — clutching onto the wall for stability. the blades under my feet felt alien and made me question coming here altogether. ice skating has always been a fear of mine and i'm not the type to hold that 'let's conquer our fears' mentality.

we stepped onto the ice together. grayson's large hands had a firm grip on my waist as he didn't need them to balance himself, so he dedicated the necessary means to helping me. i quickly learn he's a pro at this which makes me feel even more inferior.

"i was only joking before: i'm not going to let you fall," he smiled, maybe even blushed, as he looked into my eyes — our faces an inch apart. "let's do some laps so you can get used to it. we can skate around the edge if you like?" luckily the rink was pretty empty; we more or less had it to ourselves.

"winona wants a video of me skating," i told him as he glided along the ice as one, in each other's arms.

"well then, let's make sure you look good. we can't have that witch laughing at my princess," he joked.
__________

for some strange reason, sitting outside as we ate our burritos in the external seating area of the shop seemed like a good idea upon arrival. it was busy inside and neither i, nor grayson, felt like searching for a corner to huddle in as we ate. bracing the harsh weather was the only available option.

"remind me to never listen to you again about anything," grayson shivered as he scolded me through a mouth full of food.

"oh fuck off," i smiled to myself involuntarily. i tried my hardest to suppress a smile as i didn't want grayson to see me finding humour in his ridiculousness, but it was impossible. "you're so stupid," i grinned.

"you're right: you are so stupid!" he smirked.

we shared an intense look of lust for a few seconds as a gust of wind passed us by. the cold air felt like a million pin pricks on my skin; which was heavily armed with about four layers of clothing, yet, still the wintry flurry of air penetrated. grayson's hand reached for mine once he placed his container aside and we sat there in a comfortable silence as i finished chewing the last bites of my burrito.

"in the grand scheme of things," grayson spoke up, "do i stand a chance?"

i thought about his question for a while, debating on how to answer. it took me back to five days prior when i'd first told him about my engagement to evan and how difficult i found it to be honest about my feelings and intentions.

"i don't know..." i muttered truthfully. "i can't say 'no' and i can't say 'yes', i have no clue." grayson nodded and squeezed my hand to comfort me. why he thought i deserved to be consoled was beyond me. i guess it just hurts him to see me frustrated — which i am. with myself of course, which makes it all the more confusing and upsetting.

"but there's hope?" he whispered.

"a slither," i confirmed.

"i can work with that. i've finessed with less," he chuckled as we got up from our seats and walked towards the recycling bin. we walked along the pavement and grayson had his arm snaked around my shoulders as we strolled pointlessly. we had no where to go but plenty of time on our hands which seemed wasted as our unimaginative brains couldn't think of anything exciting to fill our unrestricted time capacity.

"let's find some booze, get drunk and just do stupid shit all over london," grayson proposed as neither of us had any better ideas.

"isn't it a bit early for that?" i asked as a few moments ago when i checked my phone it was only six.

"nah, it's evening. who cares what hour the clock is stuck on," he shrugged. he retrieved his phone and clicked on apple maps to tell us where the nearest liquor store was. "it's like a five minute walk. shall we go?"

i looked around and then up at the sky which was turning greyer by the hour, no doubt it would start to drizzle soon and i wouldn't want to be sober when rain starts falling from the sky.

"yeah, sure."
__________

"you can't touch me, motherfucker!" i yelled as i sat on one of the trafalgar square lions with a bottle of jack daniel's in hand. it was one of those statues that i've always passed and never looked at up close, and in my inebriated state i thought it'd be fun to ride one of the beasts — i wasn't wrong.

"baby, sit on the other one!" i pointed to the lion next to me which was gagging to be ridden, metaphorically speaking of course. grayson took a few fabulous photos of me posing on top of my new friend. even in the photos (if you excuse the whiskey glued to my hand) it was blatantly obvious that i was blind drunk.

grayson obeyed my intoxicated commands and climbed on top of the vacant spot on the lion beside me and we rode them, obviously staying stationary — but in our minds we were flying. with the wind acting upon my face it felt as though i were galloping through an open field, the world as my oyster as i roamed across the land.

"you know what you should do while we're having so much fun?" grayson asked amongst the drunken laughter erupting from the both of us.

"what?"

"you should break up with evan."

"nah," i sighed, "i love that nice man, he makes me happy," i hiccuped as my vision became unstable and my world started to spin. "he reminds me of this guy i used to know before he turned into a dick," i added.

"was his name grayson?" he laughed.

"i think so. he was an ugly little egg but he had abs, so..." i giggled as he got up and raced over to my side to start tickling me. "get the fuck off me," i laughed as he shoved his hand up my jacket and let his demon fingers attack my delicate and ticklish skin.

"only if you tell me that you love me," he negotiated.

"i love you," i smiled, pressing my lips up against his. his breath smelt like vodka and mine smelt like whiskey.

the perfect pair.

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