Sunshine | H. S.

21

After four shots of Vodka for each of us, I am definitely more than just tipsy and Harry clearly isn't sober either, his pupils so dilated that there's barely any green left in his eyes. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is messier than usual because he's frantically run his hands through it so many times. An elated smile has found an apparently permanent home on his lips and he's made an effort to stay close to me, his hand either on my back or slightly stroking the bit of exposed skin on my waist between my top and my skirt. He's pressed a kiss to my cheek or temple when no one else was in the kitchen and I've caught him staring down at my cleavage more than once.

Drunk Harry is affectionate. And horny, apparently.

No complaints though, all of my inhibitions absolutely vanish after enough alcohol. And I've definitely had enough alcohol tonight, but I don't plan on stopping anytime soon.

We're standing in the kitchen, fantasizing about what Harry's imaginary boyfriend would be like, I picture him with a petite brunette guy for some reason, when our conversation is suddenly interrupted.

Well, I interrupt it.

The loud music coming from the living room suddenly gives me a thought and the euphoria of spending time with Harry, not feeling anxious about it and the alcohol coursing through my veins make me pursue my genius idea.

"Dance with me, Curly"

Harry's eyes widen in surprise as a shocked expression takes over his angelic face.

"All right but I'm warning you, I can't dance for shit," he says with a serious expression and I can't help but laugh loudly at how earnest he looks.

I just asked him to dance at a party, not perform an elaborate ballet number at the Opera House.

"I'm not a secret dance prodigy, don't worry baby. And besides, it's Bon Jovi. No one dancing to Bon Jovi knows what the fuck they're doing" I grin and he nods slowly like he's trying to weigh the pros and cons of my proposal in his head.

"Fine, but don't make fun of me. If it's really bad I'll just blame it on the alcohol you made me drink" he finally responds and I give him a dazzling smile before grabbing his hand and pulling him into the living room where there's still a considerable group of people, none of whom are sober and they are all just dancing and making a fool of themselves like no one is watching.

This is why I love drinking.

I point at Harry with a mischievous look and grin at him, dramatically mouthing the words to the song blasting through the speakers so loudly that you could probably dance to it in the apartments above and below us and still hear it clearly.

"Shot through the heart and you're to blame, darling you give love a bad name"

I sing loudly but I can barely hear my own voice over the music and Harry stares at me with a surprised expression and an unbelieving smile on his lips.

I keep shouting the words and grinning at him, completely overwhelmed by the loud music, the people around us, and him. Harry isn't really moving, just timidly swaying his hips and nervously running his hand through his curls to push them out of his face. His eyes are fixed on me despite all of the objectively more attractive people around us, he still looks at me like there's no one else in the room. The feeling of having all of his attention is completely intoxicating, better than any high I could imagine and I'm reveling in it.

I dramatically walk towards him and wrap my arms around his neck and his hands immediately find their place on my hips, dangerously close to my ass. He pulls me closer until our chests are pressed together and leans down to scream into my ear.