Sanctuary (A Dan Smith/ Bastille fanfic)

20. Dan

“So the last thing I can remember is us leaving the park?” Chloe says sounding completely unsure of the previous night’s events. “But that was when it was still light. And then my mum said you left ours at 2am. What the hell happened between that time?” She asks completely innocently

My heart is racing. My mouth has immediately dried and I’m not sure if it’s because of the question that Chloe has just asked or if it’s because of the copious amount of alcohol consumed in the past 20 hours, fuelling my hangover to the extreme.

If she doesn’t remember does that mean I have to tell her?

……..

“Nooooo Dan we aren’t going home yet!” Chloe moans whilst we walk towards home. The sun set hours ago and we’re both far too drunk to do anything other than go to sleep and await the inevitable hangovers that will haunt us in the morning.

“Chloe, we’re totally fucked!” I hiccup loudly, proving my point and we both burst into fits of giggles for the hundredth time of the day. “We’re not going to get in anywhere.”

“Have faith dear Danny boy!” Chloe exclaims as she swings her arm around my body and I place mine over her shoulder, partly because I’m enjoying being close with her, but partly because I need help standing. Not like Chloe is a steady person to lean against; she’s swaying from side to side as she walks.  “Here! Look! This is a pub!” I eye up the establishment that she has suggested and dread to think about what it looks like inside. It looks completely grotty and unkempt from the outside with hanging baskets of flowers that seemed like they died years ago, and I just know that it’s probably filled with aging locals who will look down on us when we enter. I can already imagine their eyes popping open at the sight of such a young and pretty girl, and I’m hardly strong enough to defend her, making me immediately worry for her safety. “We’re going in whether you like it or not!” She laughs as she places her hand in my hoody pocket and drags me through the door. The feeling of her touch is getting me feeling warmer and warmer and it’s almost like I don’t need the hoody to keep me warm. She is enough.

You know that saying ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’? That was totally relevant in this moment in my life. The grotty old man pub? Well inside it was a rave.

Chloe pushes the door and instantly we can hear the thick drum and bass beat coming from below us. There are stairs straight ahead of us but no people or signs around to tell us to go down there. Being the exciting girl that Chloe is, she grasps my arm and drags me down the stairs and through a door into what can only be described as a bunker filled with young adults, loud music, bright lights and thick smoke.

“Fucking yes Dan!” Chloe jumps up and down as her eyes scan the room. “Mate!” She grabs hold of my neck and hugs me again to show how excited she is. “I fucking love this song!” She screams as a new song comes on. She starts swaying to the music, allowing it to take over her movements. She throws her hands in the air and moves her hips from side to side. I stand watching her dancing for a moment before she notices that I’m watching her. “Don’t be a bore.” She wraps both arms around my body and pulls me closer to her. She moves her hands up my body until they are placed around my neck, her fingers interlocking behind my head so that they’re held firmly in place. Somehow my hands find their way to her hips, I allow my own movements to match hers and we both sway amongst the crowd and allow the music to consume us.

I feel free. I feel totally and utterly free. I have no worries as I move in time to the music and my only care is that I don’t make an idiot out of myself in front of Chloe. I don’t care about college, I don’t care about home, I don’t even care about the hangover that will come in the morning. I only care about her.

She’s staring into my eyes now, and I’m staring into hers. If I focus on her then I may not be sick. But if I look away the blurriness of the room is bound to make me vomit. That’s all I’m thinking. Don’t fuck this moment up.

Seconds later she’s leaning closer into me and she’s pressed her lips against mine. She moves away quickly to analyse my expression, but she can clearly see that I like where this is going. This is it, my first kiss. I’m not ready for it to stop yet though. I make the move this time and crash my lips into hers. I try to work out what I’m meant to be doing but she somehow seems to be enjoying it, weaving her fingers into my hair to bring me closer and slipping her tongue into my mouth. This feeling is totally foreign to me, but it feels good. So good. Too good to stop.

And we don’t stop for hours. We only stop when Chloe suggests going back to hers. I panic slightly at the idea of sex but then I’ve already got my first kiss out of the way tonight, I may as well get my first time having sex out of the way too. We’re both drunk enough that if it goes horrendously wrong, I can blame it on the alcohol consumption.

We quickly leave the club and are practically running home, stealing frequent kisses from one another and laughing loudly, being overly obnoxious and probably waking up every person on each street that we pass. By the time we get home I have sobered up slightly, but Chloe seems to have gotten worse. I have barely got her inside her house before her eyes are closing and I’m forced to carry her up the stairs and put her to bed.

I sigh as I watch the sleeping beauty in her slumber. I go and get her a glass of water, sure that she will need it in the morning. I place another kiss on her lips whilst she sleeps, knowing that it may be our last kiss, and then I leave her room as quietly as I can.

But not quietly enough, it seems. Because her psycho mum starts yelling at me as soon as I’ve closed Chloe’s bedroom door. I panic and put my hood up and race down the stairs and out of the front door as quickly as I can. Before she can catch up with me or even see my identity I’m inside my own house, panting and out of breath. Not just because of running out of the house, but because of the events from the whole evening.

………

“Dan?” She asks as she pushes her sunglasses back to the top of her head and eyes me suspiciously. I look over at the hair that she is playing with, her index finger twirling around so that her hair is wrapped around it in loops. That same hair that I was wrapping my own fingers through just 6 hours ago.

I sigh. I can’t tell her. There’s no point. I’m enjoying this friendship far too much to fuck things up with her. I take one last deep breath before replying to her question, hoping that she doesn’t question my lie. “Oh, not much. We just kept on drinking until the early hours. I helped you to bed and then left yours.”

“Oh good.” She mumbles. “So I wasn’t annoying or anything? I did nothing to regret?” She chuckles slightly in a nervous way.

“No.” I reply firmly. If she doesn’t remember, she doesn’t need to know. I don’t want to be another regret to her.