World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

36.0

36.0

THE DRUNK

“You are awesome,” I tell him when he is right next to me.

“And you are drunk,” he gets so close that my knees start to feel weak. I just want to be brave enough to kiss the hell out of him right there, in front of everyone, without caring what people could do or say.

“You are drunk too,” I point my finger at his face, “I can see it in those pretty little eyes you have. There’s something going on in there.”

“Well,” he laughs, “They do put a lot of alcohol in those deserts. I tried a few, absolutely convinced that nothing would happen but here I am, singing for the crowd.”

“You are even prettier when you get drunk,” I wrap my arm around his waist, pulling him closer to my body, “And you smell very nice too. I missed your smell,” I tell him as I bury my face on his neck.

“Hey,” he pulls away enough to stare at my eyes, “There’s people around. Are you sure about this?”

“And who cares? We are doing nothing wrong, right?”

“Right,” he smiles as he wraps his arms around my shoulders. He has to step on his toes for his face to reach mine and I love that. I absolutely love that.

“You never told me you could sing.”

“I don’t sing, I’m just drunk,” he laughs, “I can’t believe I did it. I completely embarrassed myself.”

“You are great, I’m really surprised,” I insist, “You should do it more often.”

“Stop making fun of me,” he fakes a pout.

“What are you saying? Your have a beautiful voice.”

“I don’t.”

“You do,” I wipe the hair out of his forehead.

“Hey, don’t touch my hair,” he warns me.

“Sorry,” I bite my lips in a desperate need to hurt myself because he is so damn cute. “And let’s not talk about how,” I fake as if I were trying to find the right word, “How hot you looked up there.”

“Shut up,” he laughs.

“The crowd loved you. Didn’t you see them?”

“Only because the people that were singing before me were really really bad. You should have heard them, it was starting to hurt my ears.”

“I’m glad I came just in time for the best part then.”

“Hey, you!” a girl approaches my tourist.

“Oh! I completely forgot,” he tells her.

“What is this?” I interrupt their heavy flirting, “Why are you talking to him? He is mine.”

“Harry!” the tourist gives me a warning look. “Don’t mind him,” he tells her, “He is just very drunk.”

“Aw,” she stares at us, “You two are together?”

“Yeah,” I roll my eyes at her, “Sorry to disappoint you. Can you leave now?” I can see the lust on her eyes when she looks at him, she may be trying to play it cool but I know she wants him.

“Harry, come on!”

“It’s okay,” she laughs, “I’d be jealous just like you if he was my boyfriend,” she winks at me. How disrespectful.

“I can’t believe her,” I groan.

“Are you being serious right now? You were an ass,” he laughs, “She only came to bring me my bottle. I gave it to her before I went to the stage.”