hold my hand [w.s]

heaven [004]

The room was loud with suggestive words and stupid, drunk giggles. Two people Schlatt had never even met stumbled off into a small closet to the side of the room. The empty nature of it was what made it perfect for this stupid game of 7 Minutes in Heaven which, unfortunately, he'd somehow been dragged into. The two seemed excited to rush off to the privacy of the room, making him scoff and roll his eyes dramatically.

"Fuck, I have a feeling they're gonna wanna be in there for a little longer than 7 minutes." The laughter that followed made him smile in accomplishment, even though the group of people around him were completely drunk and off their minds.

While they all waited for the seven minutes to be up, someone decided to pull up some shitty Would You Rather questions to fill the time. Schlatt tuned in for one of the questions and regretted it instantly.

"Would you rather be 10 feet tall or have ten feet?"

Jesus Christ. I need more alcohol - I am not drunk enough for this shit.

On the way back to the kitchen downstairs, the relatively quiet room left Schlatt's thoughts when the blaring music of the main party started to kick in. Covering his ears, he made a beeline to where Ted was practically guarding the alcohol.

The taller male smiled in slight confusion, already filling up a cup with some kind of booze, "I thought you were 'straight-edge' Schlatty boy."

The words made him roll his eyes once more, simply taking the drink before replying.

"Yeah, well, you should listen to the shit I have to put myself through before you go off saying I should be sober during it. When can we fucking leave, oh my god," He took a gulp of the alcohol, ignoring the warmth in his body and instead sending judging stares around the room. There were way too many people here, fucks sake.

"I dunno, the party is still pretty heavy goin'. Might have to put some of the drinks away so we don't blow our whole supply tonight, everyone's real eager to drink," Ted's expression was serious, though there was a hint of something in his eyes that Schlatt couldn't really pinpoint.

He nodded, still drinking his cup and waiting out the seven minutes down here with Ted instead of up with the people drunk off their minds upstairs. He didn't have a chance to say anything because Ted had already started chatting again.

"Can't be that bad though right? Up there I mean. You've got Wilbur there - I'm pretty sure I saw him go up - so at least you can talk to him, yeah?"

Schlatt hummed and shrugged, looking down in disappointment at the already empty cup. In his mind he debated whether or not to get a refill, but his mouth was already answering Ted's question.

"I would. He's kinda busy being in the middle of the discussion, y'know? I mean, it's Wilbur we're talking about," Ted rolled his eyes at Schlatt's words, "We're just lucky we convinced him not to bring his guitar."

There was always a weird tension between Schlatt and Wilbur - one that neither brought up or addressed in the slightest. Schlatt took it as a shared dislike, easily falling into the role of dissing the Brit whenever he could. The Brit in question, however, merely avoided the American. The rest of their groups barely noticed it, always thinking that they were good friends when in reality they were.. Well, not enemies, just.. On the brink of enemies. They didn't fight nearly as much as enemies should.

Either way, Schlatt wasn't very eager to talk to the boy, nor Wilbur to Schlatt. Come to think of it, he barely remembered that the musician was there until Ted mentioned it. He distinctly recalled catching the others gaze a few times during the night - now he wasn't quite sure why he forgot about those moments.