Within The Stars | ✔️

16

~Elias' POV~

Samara was very drunk. At the same time, she was also very hyperactive and clearly in a good mood, if her dancing with some random girl and the two of them giggling together was any kind of hint as to how she was doing.

I pushed another girl away from me when she tried to get close enough to me to dance, raising a brow as I kept an eye on Samara. She was no longer dancing with the girl from just a few moments ago, but rather was now staring off across the club with a slight frown on her face and a conflicted furrow between her brows. My eyes followed her gaze as best as I was able to from here, trying to see what had caused that look on her face. Rather quickly I saw that she was looking at Sterlyn, watching him as he was chatting with a girl with dark skin and black curly hair that fell below her shoulders. It was quite easy to tell that he was hitting it off rather well with the girl.

My eyes flicked back to Samara, who still looked upset but was now dancing with some short muscular dude that looked like he was ready to start dry humping her on the dance floor. I groaned to myself and pushed a few people out of my way as I headed towards her, knowing that she would never do this if she was sober. As much as I didn't like Samara, I didn't want her to possibly be taken advantage of by that guy, or by anyone. I was an asshole, not a complete fucking scumbag.

The second I was close enough, I gripped the short man by the back of his shirt and practically tossed him away from her, hearing him cursing colorfully as I did so. Naturally, I sent him a glare, and he went away rather quickly after that. "Hey!" Pouted Samara, evidently upset. "You took away my dance partner." She whined, stepping closer to me so I could hear her a little bit easier. I raised a brow. "I'm pretty fucking sure the last thing that man was ready to do with you was dance." I said, causing her to huff and roll her eyes at me. "Shut up!" She exclaimed. "Dance with me, then, if I can't dance with those other guys." She tried to negotiate, and I knew she must've been even more drunk than I thought when she giggled to herself as she attempted to press her body to mine.

"What the fuck?" I cursed in surprise, to which she giggled softly. I didn't know what the hell to do, so I ended up just standing there as she danced, watching her with an unamused look on my face. "You're getting a little bit too friendly there, Samara." I mentioned, taken aback and slightly unsure of what to make of the way she turned around to dance against my front. She pouted over her shoulder at me, seemingly having heard my remark. "Well, what am I supposed to do?" She huffed with frustration laced within her voice. "You took away my other dance partner." She grumbled, to which I just rolled my eyes.

"You're drunk out of your mind." I sighed, shaking my head at her as I shooed her away from me a little. She frowned at me, looking like she was pouting from my rejection. "Fine, I'll go find someone else to dance with, then." She huffed, wobbling on her feet when she turned to try to leave.

I grasped her arm before she could leave, yanking her back towards me with annoyance. "Stop. I know you'll regret this in the morning, Samara." I tried to sound as gentle as possible with her because she was drunk, and I knew she didn't know what she was doing, but my voice came out as an annoyed hiss. She frowned, the ever so slight sparkle in her eye growing shinier as tears pushed through suddenly, catching me incredibly off guard. "U-Uh," I stammered, slightly nervous. I hadn't meant to make her cry. "I didn't mean to...Samara, please don't cry." I sighed softly, hating how guilty I now felt.

"Y-You were right." She stammered, sniffling as a fat tear fell down her cheek that she hurriedly wiped away. I could barely hear her because the music was so loud and her voice was so soft, so I grabbed her wrist and led her off towards an empty back room of the club, shutting the door so she and I were alone. By now she was just crying more, refusing to look at me as she wiped her tears. "Is this about Sterlyn?" I asked with a sigh, stepping away from her. She looked up at me, her eyes watery and her long, dark hair slightly mussed. "Maybe." She mumbled, frowning deeply. "I just...He was talking with a girl, and I realized that he and I haven't been able to have conversations where he seems even half as interested as he did with her." She told me, fiddling with her fingers. "Hell, we barely have conversations at all, really."

"Maybe we should pretend like we're dating." She added jokingly, or I assumed it was a joke, considering the last time I had suggested that she had basically told me I was stupid and then left.

"Yeah, sure." I snorted, rolling my eyes at her poor attempt of a joke. She cocked up a brow at me, her brown eyes slightly dilated from the alcohol but otherwise, she looked entirely serious. "I'm not joking." She huffed, crossing her arms over her ample breasts. "I'll help you, and maybe you can find some way to help me." She said, peering up into my eyes.

For a moment I just looked at her, wondering if this was truly all that it had taken for her to change her mind. "You're drunk still." I responded, shaking my head, but she just huffed and rolled her eyes. "Don't." I stated before she could protest. "I'm not going to agree to that when you've clearly been drinking. If you're actually serious, then ask me when you're sober." I told her, watching as she frowned slightly but just huffed and reluctantly nodded her head.

"Fine." She said softly. "But I'm going back out to dance." She huffed, pushing past me and heading out of the room we were in.

**

It was rather early the next day when I heard a light knock on my bedroom door, causing me to glance up as I sat in my bed. "Come in." I called, watching as the door opened and Samara's short, curvy figure slipped into my room.

She wore an oversized black shirt with a dark purple graphic design on the front, the slight hint of black denim shorts peeking from beneath the bottom of her top. Her black denim jacket was about the same size as her shirt, the black fishnets covering her thick thighs. I narrowed my eyes at her, wondering what it was she could possibly want at nine in the morning. Nobody else was even awake yet except for the two of us.

Our eyes met and she hesitated beside my bedroom door, her face not clear of makeup but rather just lightly done up a little. Still, I would admit she looked just as pretty, though I'd never say that to her. "What do you want?" I muttered, narrowing my eyes at her. She walked over to me and hesitantly crawled onto the end of my bed, peering at me with a shyness in her gaze that I had never seen before, at least not around me. The last thing that Samara ever was around me was shy. She was sassy, full of attitude in a way that made me frustrated. No girl I had ever known had treated me the way that she did, affected me in the way that she did. It was a strange thing.

"I meant what I said last night." She said softly. "I want to take you up on your offer. It's probably the only way I have a chance."