ᵢₘₐgᵢₙₑ ➳ Michael Gray [ON HOLD]

➳ eight - the after party

《 there is a certain happiness in being silly and ridiculous 》

➳

Arabella hummed lightly to herself as she sipped lightly at her double vodka with cranberry juice through a straw, trying to juggle her drink, Michael's neat whiskey and her purse in her arms. She struggled with navigating herself amongst the mass of tables, desperately trying to reach the Shelby table without tripping on her dress.

The girl glanced curiously at the masculine drink she held, tilting her head at it. She glanced around quickly and decided to brave it, taking a light sip of the whiskey. Immediately she began to cough, the drink harsh on her throat as she struggled to swallow it. It was a fucking brutal drink and had her gagging within seconds of it entering her mouth.

Small curses slipped through her lips as she stumbled slightly, starting to move towards the table once again, puffing out a breath of air as she spotted Michael watching her with a smirk. He had clearly witnessed her small error in judgement and raised a teasing brow at her as she grumbled under her breath.

Tommy had spotted her at the same time as Michael, nudging his cousin and gesturing his head in her direction. He was clearly asking if Michael was going to help Arabella in her quest to reach the table without dropping anything, tripping up or spilling one of the drinks.

Michael's smirk just widened as he shook his head, "Nope, I'm going to enjoy this small moment of her suffering."

Tommy sighed and took another drink of his whiskey before planting it firmly on the table, pecking Grace's cheek and standing up, making his way to Arabella. He actually felt kind of bad for her as relief washed over her face upon seeing him - clearly begging for him to help her out of her current predicament.

He reached out after meeting her in the middle, removing both drinks from her hands, allowing her to get a firmer grip on her clutch and to lift up the bottom of her dress. The Shelby man turned slightly, allowing her to pass by him and followed her to the table.

"Arabella Grace Tate, aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" Arthur roared out, throwing his arms out recklessly while Linda eyed him disapprovingly from her seat besides him.

Arabella smiled faintly at him as she took her seat between Michael and Finn, delicately placing her clutch on the table and thanking Tommy as he placed her drink on the table. The man shot Michael a look of annoyance as he was handed his alcoholic beverage. Michael paid it no mind as he took a much needed gulp of the liquid.

Arabella eyed him jokingly before speaking, "Well, I guess you really are what you drink, M."

The man huffed and rolled his eyes at her before playfully giving her his full attention, as did the rest of the Shelbys, all curious as to what she meant, "Oh, really? And what's that supposed to be, babycakes?"