Erik Durm One-Shots

Implicit

   He looked like a mix of a Disney Prince, a golden retrivier and a little boy, and she wished her slightly drunk mind would stop making such weird comparisons, especially when they make her want to giggle and she’s not so sure her best friend would enjoy seeing Aimee laughing on her face when she’s saying – for about the millionth time – that although she and her boyfriend broke up she’s “completely fine”.

         Oh.

         And she also wished Disney Prince Retrivier Boy would stop staring at her.

         It’s not like he stared constantly, but she can feel his gaze on her whilst she tried to keep focused on whatever Charlie was saying, their eyes meeting at every once in a while as she took a look around the cool club slash bar Charlotte chose to “celebrate her new single life”.

         She thought she might have something on her face or maybe the back of her flowy black skirt was stuck inside her panties like that one time in sixth grade, but all of the three girlfriends Aimee was there with reassured her that she was okay and demanded her to stop running her fingers through her hair so much.

         Not Aimee’s fault. She did that when she was nervous.

         And his stares were making her nervous.

         “Next round is on you, girl!” Her friends cheered and pushed her towards the bar, all giggling and eyeing the Golden Retrivier boy – who was there with a couple of very cute and as Disney prince looking friends – muttering how “Aimee would get lucky” that night.

         She honestly didn’t care if she was going to get lucky, but she was hoping luck was on her side and she wouldn’t trip of those ginormous heels everyone insisted she put on although they made her look like a highly uncomfortable giraffe.

         (Part of her mind was pointing out that Disney boy was quite tall himself so he wouldn’t mind her height but she shut that part of her mind up and focused on simply being able to walk without falling on her face)

         Being a pretty girl has its perks and with a bat of her eyelids, Aimee was already in front of the bartender, repeating her friends orders and watching as the man made his magic.

         Before she could take out her card, a throat was cleared by her side and first thing she noticed how big the person’s hand was as he handed the bartender his card and said “It’s on me.”

         Disney Prince Golden Retrivier boy – scratch that, man.

         “Hm, no thanks.” Shaking her head, Aimee put his hand (very warm she noticed, really long fingers) down and made sure the bartender charged it on her.

         The boy frowned and before he could open his mouth, she said “No offense, but I can pay for my own drinks.”

         He didn’t seem offended, he actually smiled – no teeth, just a slight curl of his lips upwards and it felt like his entire face changed, dimples appearing on his red cheeks and he looked as boyish as ever – “None taken. I’m Erik.”

         “I’m taking those drinks to my friends.”

         “Then I will help you.”

—

         It turned out her friends – and his friends, who were both blonde and very smily – were all on a plot to force her to socialize with him, cause the second the drinks appeared, everyone decided to “hit the dance floor” and leave her and Erik to watch their booth.