Supernatural Short Stories

Take a Drunk Girl Home

The leather of the stool had long since cracked, the foam barely cushioning me as I struggled to find a comfortable spot to sit. Evaporation slipped down my glass of whiskey, soaking my hand, but I didn't notice.

My attention was on the other end of the bar, where a group of girls stood huddled around a tower of shot glasses. There had to be four or five girls, all giggling and bubbly. Not what I was used to at all. And while many could find it annoying, I found it refreshing. They were clueless and happy, and so unlike what my life had become.

"I'm calling it a night," Sam, my brother announced, clapping my shoulder before heading out the door. I gave him a quick nod before turning my attention back to the group of girls. One in particular. She was off to the side of the group, trying to join into the festivities, but not exactly fitting in. Wearing a pair of ripped black jeans that hugged all her curves and a deep red shirt, she was dressed a lot more casual than the rest.

But it was the smile on her face that captured my attention. It was pasted onto her beautiful face, but as a person who faked it more often than not, I could easily recognize it in someone else. She downed another shot of tequila, her eyes flashing around the rest of the bar, landing on me in a moment of surprise.

Her gaze caught mine, both of us daring the other to make the first move. She took a hesitant step forward, but before she could move her friend reached over, pulling her attention back to her group of friends. Sighing, I turned back to my lonely glass of whiskey, telling myself a girl like that would never be interested in a man like me.

Without raising my gaze, I lifted two hands, ordering another drink, wondering if I could ever have enough whiskey to drown these feelings deep inside. Feelings that were only magnified when I realized that girl would never be interested in me.

"This seat taken?" I was asked, the voice full of nerves. I slowly glanced up, staring into the most beautiful pair of eyes I had ever seen. It was the girl from the end of the bar. She was busy tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her every move a little shy and unsure.

"It is now," I assured her, nodding at the bartender who immediately understood. Coming forward with whiskey for me and tequila for her, he quickly scampered off. "I think this is what you were drinking."

She chuckled. "I think it was the cheaper version, but yeah. Thank you." She sipped the strong alcohol, glancing over at her friends who giggled as they stared your way.

I clinked my glass with hers. "Was this your idea or theirs?"

"Both," she answered, her beautiful e/c eyes staring up at me, and for a moment I got lost inside them. In the idea that I could fall in love with a woman like her, settle down, have a normal life. I had never felt like this with anyone before, and a part of me wanted to pull back and run. "I just noticed you looking over earlier, and well I..., I usually don't do things like this but...,"

"No, I get it," I answered quickly. "I wanted to come over but I know how girls and their groups can be. To be honest? You scared me."

She laughed then. "Us? We scared you? You seemed like the type of man who isn't scared of anything. We were taking bets on your job. Some thought mafia, others thought FBI."

"And you? What did you think?" I asked, turning farther to face her.

She stayed silent for a moment. "I had a hard time deciding. I thought maybe FBI was right, but no..you're not that cold. So I was thinking maybe a hunter."

Her answer caught me unaware and I almost slid off my seat in surprise. "What? Like..you mean...I hunt deer?"

She leaned closer, her voice soft and low. "I might not be a hunter, but I can still spot one. Easily. And you're giving off all the signs."

We spent the next hour talking, getting closer with each conversation. Glasses lined the counter in front of us, the bartender working hard to keep up with us. Y/N told me about her parents, how her Dad had been a hunter. He had taught her to be safe but pleaded with her to never become a hunter.

I had heard of her Dad, had actually met him once or twice. He had been pals with my Dad, and I loved watching the way her eyes sparkled at my stories. Her friends had long since gone on to the next bar, but Y/N had stayed, which had made me ecstatic.

But as the night wore on, I could see the haze in her eyes, the way her words slightly blurred together, and I knew it was time for her to get home and sleep it off. And as much as I didn't want the evening to end, I didn't want her embarrassing herself.

She let me walk her outside, leaning into my arm as I helped her to my car. "Are you taking me home?" She asked, her smile crooked as she smiled up at me.

"Who am I to pass up the opportunity to take a beautiful girl home?" I asked, reaching over to open the door for her. She had other thoughts, almost falling over into my arms, tilting her head up as she smiled. And if she wasn't the perfect thing I had ever seen. I stared down at her, not wanting to move. Suddenly standing on tiptoes, she pressed her lips against mine. They were soft and warm and tasted lightly of cherries. I wanted nothing more than to pull her tight against me, but I ended up pushing her away.

"What...," she started to mutter, her lips turning into a pout.

"I just want to get you home," I told her, guiding her onto the passenger seat of my car, shutting the door after her.

She gave me her address before leaning her head against the window. Before I pulled the Impala out of the parking lot her eyes were closed, her breathing slowing down. I smiled to myself, wondering if I would ever have a chance with a woman like her.

It was only a ten-minute drive to her house. Parking on the sidewalk, I came around the door, slowly opening it as her eyes blinked open. "Are we home already?"

"Yeah," I answered, letting her hand me the keys. She struggled out of the car, slumping in my arms, and I reached down, picking her up in my arms. She giggled, cuddling deeper, and for a moment I imagined I could have this. I could have her to come home too, to hold her in my arms. Sighing, I shoved those feelings aside, pushing open her door and stepping inside.

Her house was exactly as I would have expected. Light and airy, it was full of blue and cream colored furniture. I could see the subtle hints of her father, and I had a feeling there might be a devil's trap underneath the rug.

I was going to ask her for directions, but I noticed her eyelids fluttering closed, her long lashes brushing against her cheeks, and I decided I could find my own way. Down the hallway, to the door at the very end. Pushing it open, I could immediately tell it was her room. A dark wooden bed sat in the place of honor in the middle of the room. A blue comforter covered in, looking plush and comfortable. A dresser that matched was off to the left, a chair and bookcase on the other side. Setting her down on the bed, I reached down, slipping her black boots off and tossing them to the side. She was stirring, turning to cuddle into her blankets, and I let her.

Finding her bathroom, I got out a couple of aspirin, setting them and a glass of water down on her nightstand, watching her sleep for a moment. She was beautiful, even with her hair fanning out about her head, her makeup smearing her pillow.

I knew this wasn't like me. Not at all. I usually picked the hardened women. The ones that wanted a quick night of fun, nothing else. We satisfied each other's urges before moving on. I never found one that I wanted to spend hours talking with. That I wanted to wake up with in the morning.

Tearing myself away from her bedside, I left her room, heading back to the living room. I saw a notepad off to the side, and I scribbled my phone number with nothing more than my name. Not knowing if she would remember me, but knowing I had to give a chance at happiness a shot.