eleven

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She stumbled through the hallway, trying to get to the kitchen on her high heels. She had been flirting and drinking with Michael all night. The more she drunk, the more she dared to flirt. But now somehow she had lost Michael. She wasn’t quite sure how that had happened. She remembered leaving him for a moment to use the bathroom, but she wasn’t sure how long ago that had been.

So now she was trying to get her drunk ass to the kitchen, in the hopes that she would find either Michael or Calum there. Calum would know where Michael was hiding.

She got to the kitchen, but didn’t spot either of the boys there. She did however spot a bottle of strawberry vodka, her favourite flavour. She went over to grab it, but her hand didn’t really follow the orders of her brain properly, so instead she knocked it over. It almost rolled off the counter, but someone reached out and caught it just before it hit the floor. She looked up to thank whoever it was, but the quick head movement made her dizzy. She stumbled back, but somehow twisted her ankle and fell. But like the bottle, she was caught before she hit the floor.

She looked up, slowly this time, and saw Ashton’s face only a few centimeters away from her own. Not knowing what to say, she just looked at him. His hazel eyes were almost brown in the dim light, and there was a crease in his forehead. It made him look angry, or maybe just kind of worried. She didn’t like it. Her eyes fell down to his lips, and she marveled at how full they were. She had never realised he had such a beautiful mouth.

Before she could do anything else, he hoisted her upright with one arm, putting down the bottle of vodka with the other.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

She still couldn’t really tell if he was angry or not. Either way she didn’t like it one bit.

“And what if I was? By the way, have you seen Michael?”

The crease in his forehead deepened.

“Yeah, you’re really drunk. I’m taking you home.”

“What? No, I want to find Michael! He is nice to me, he makes me nice sweet drinks.”

“And look where that got you, you can hardly stand.”

He slipped his arm around her waist, and she was too drunk to push him away. She let him half carry her trough the hallway towards the front door. When they had almost reached it, Michael appeared seemingly out of nowhere to block their path. He seemed annoyed.

“What the fuck are you doing, Irwin?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, Clifford? I’m taking her home, so just get out of the way.”

Her head was spinning, and she wobbled on her heels, trying to keep steady. Ashton’s arm pulled her a bit closer to him, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Why… why do you guys call each other by your last names? That’s so weird!”

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