He was the boy on campus everyone strayed from. His looks, his demeanor, his everything was always so dark and formidable. Is there a possibility anyone can change him, or is that who he will be for the rest of his life? Stuck with nameless women, e...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
⇋ "Chug, chug, chug!" The small crowd of four people who had assembled in front of Steele and I collectively chanted with enthusiasm.
Steele's show ended a little over thirty minutes ago, so basically the entire crowd from the theater came over to the bar after that. It was now 11:52, I was currently chugging my sixth mixed drink, and Steele was trying to catch up with me as the crowd urged us on.
"I'm gonna beat you so fucking hard, Floor," Steele jauntily yelled towards me as he followed his statement with a small laugh.
"Yeah, good luck, I-I'm already like fou-five drinks ahead of you." I stuttered back and brought my half empty cup up to my mouth so I could take another gulp.
I'm not exactly sure what came over me. I showed up here an hour before the concert started and instantly wanted to drown myself in alcohol. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I already don't have control over myself, or maybe it's because I feel miserable and defective anyway. Either way, all this alcohol that I had been consuming since I've gotten here has really gotten me to take my mind off of all my current issues, and I'm thankful for that. I haven't drank in ages.
"So," Steele jovially muttered, dropping his completely empty second drink onto the bottle covered counter top in front of us. The crowd had started to disseminate as we started finishing our last drinks, since our overly enthusiastic drunk demeanors had clearlydiminished. "Are you gonna need a ride," he let out a tiny belch before he could finish his sentence, "home?"
"Probably not from you," I giggled dumbly, almost slapping myself right in the face after replaying my sentence in my head and hearing how ditzy and vacuous I sounded.
"Hey, I don't know what you're talking about," his raspy voice chuckled as it sent a slightly visible chill throughout my body. "I'm not nearly as drunk as you are right now. Technically I'm not even legally drunk, but you on the other hand-"
"Oh, whatever, stop trying to make me feel bad," I heard myself completely interrupt him and felt my hand leave my leg to get a sturdy grasp on his upper arm so I wouldn't fall over onto my face. My balance is not on my side right now.
"I'm being serious, Floor," his tone of voice changed from a witty banter to hard and stern within seconds. "You're in no position to drive yourself home."
"I didn't even drive myself here in the first place. I can just call Zach when I'm ready," I tried to make my tone match his, but couldn't due to the constant unexplained giggles that tried to escape my mouth.
"You don't have to call him out here, I'll drive you," Steele calmly suggested and I felt myself starting to slide off the side off my stool. Steele's hands quickly flew up to grab tightly onto my shoulders so that he could hold me upright. An overpowering feeling of energy surged from his hands to my shoulders. "I'm starting to feel like maybe we should leave right now. I don't want to take the risk of you somehow breaking the world record for blood alcohol content. Although I feel like you might already be there."
