Erik Durm One-Shots

Tighten Up

         Victoria was about to murder her friends.

         Her best friend Andressa she’d probably do so by maybe attaching her throat to a torturing device that only got tighter every time her friend moved forward.

         Then Victoria would start throwing her precious MAC make up collection to a fire.

(Death would greet Andy in minutes.)

         Her male best friend Oliver would end up the same way (dead) but Victoria wouldn’t be so mean because he wasn’t being so annoying.

         She’d just choke him to death or throw him to the wolves or somethingequally endearing.

         Why the hell when she was pumped to go out all they could do was whine?

         Fingers moving quickly on her iPhone screen, she typed angrily just make up your damn minds already, lots of angry face emoji.

         You see, Victoria hated last minute plans. 

         Surprises? Spontaneous actions? Impulsive decisions?

         No.

         She enjoyed having at least a three hour notice in order to get hair, make up and outfit planned, plus reschedule her plans for the next day to fit her hangover.

         Vick had been called "control freak" because of that sometimes.

         And "princess", for her demands.

         And "bossy", for always wanting things to be her way.

(Although that nickname reminded her of someone.)

(Someone she was not really wanting to be reminded of right now.)

(And whom she hoped tequila would most likely wash off her mind those dimply smile and sapphire blue eyes and big hands and pouty lips.)

(At least for that night.)

         Bar, was Oliver’s instant reply, being followed immediately by Andressa’sclub, and Victoria groaned.

         Fuck you both, her bordeoux nails were hitting the screen with such strength she was afraid she’d break it, I give up on you two.

         She knew that caps meant screaming and that’s why she wasn’t so fazed when she read the text Andressa sent her, a countless amount of exclamation and interrogation points clouding the message.

THEN WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT TO DO PRINCESS VICTORIA!!!????!!!!!!

         If they were face to face they’d most likely be screaming.

         So she didn’t even hesitate before answering her friend in the same virtual tone: I JUST WANT TO GET REALLY FUCKED UP AND DRUNK AND FLIRT WITH CUTE BOYS AND DANCE ON TOP OF TABLES AND NOT GET DURMMED!!!!!!!!!!

         Fine by me, Oliver replied.

         Same.

         Victoria smiled.

         Okay, maybe she would let her best friends live for a while longer…

—

         After the sixth shot of José Cuervo, when Oliver philosophically asked “Why pick a bar or a club when we can do both, just one after the other?”, his question hit her straight in the heart.