One can imagine, that after 3 bottles of shared wine and a lot of collective dancing, things can get messy.
Which is exactly what happened.
"You're fucking wild, Andro!" Sammy shouted at me as I threw my head back in laughter and sauntered into the open kitchen for a (much unneeded) refill. We had spent over an hour dancing in the middle of the living room. Even Jake shimmied a bit. The night had just been filled with laughing, dancing, singing, and drinking.
Once again, shit is bound to go wrong.
I was tilting the wine bottle into my glass when somehow I knocked it to the ground. The entire glass. To the tiles. It shattered around me, like a perfect bubble. A shriek left my mouth but I stayed completely still, not wanting to step on any shards. And trust me, there were many of them.
Genuinely, before I could even assess the damage, all of the guys were sliding around the corner to see what was up. Solemnly I looked up at Josh, feeling incredibly apologetic about breaking his glass.
"I'll buy you a new one," I whispered—as though I feared any louder of a volume and I'd break even more things. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow morning. I will buy you a new one." They all were standing in the archway, looking at the immense amount of glass surrounding me. My sock felt wet.
"Stop," Jake broke the silence, striding over to me. He was wearing shoes, thank God, so I wasn't worried about him getting sliced. "You don't need to buy him shit."
"But I--,"
"I said stop." Okay. "Don't move." Brows furrowed, I watched him calculate his next move. He seemed to be battling something in his brain, from the way his eyes were flickering back and forth. With a subtle sigh, he reached across the wall of glass to wrap his arms around my torso, before lifting me up and quickly moving me to where the others were standing. Far away from any debris.
To clarify, it was a 'wall' of glass to an ant. A pile, if you will.
It all happened so fast that I kind of zoned out in confusion, letting Josh usher me to sit at the dining table. Jake was still in the kitchen, probably picking up my mess.
The fire from his touch lingered. Grew, even.
"You okay?" Josh knelt in front of the chair, gripping my hands in my lap. He noticed I was shaking, but it was just because I got startled. It's not every day that I shatter things.
"I'm really sorry," my voice was barely audible. I felt so bad.
"Nonsense," He says that a lot. "It wasn't intentional. I'm not worried about it. I am, however, worried about this little red spot on your sock." My attention was directed to my foot, which sure enough, was bleeding. Nice.
"Oh, it's good. It doesn't hurt." A lie. It stung.
"Andro-,"
"Here." A band-aid was placed gently on the table courtesy of a not-so-gentle voice. In the time it took for Josh to kneel in front of me and ask me a question, his twin had gone off and found me a bandage.
Screw him and his chivalrous fuckery.
"I'm fine, really." I tried to reason, certain that I didn't need to do anything. It was just a little blood. No big deal. But for some reason, the 4 wouldn't let it go.
"Quit being that way," Jake shoved Josh out of the way and gripped my ankle, yanking my leg up to press my foot to his thigh. He—surprisingly gently—pulled my sock off to assess the cut. It really wasn't bad at all. It was on the top of my foot, and just looked like a papercut. Boys are just babies, I guess.
"Let me just clean the kitchen. Seriously, can you just let me do that?" I was still drunk, we all were, and all I wanted was to clean my mess and leave.
With a chuckle, Jake shook his head, "So stubborn," he mumbled under his breath. A few moments and one band-aid later, I was good as new. The glass was still scattered across the kitchen tiles. I heard someone tell Sammy to do that, but instead he was eating a popsicle.
I don't even know where he found it.
With a huff and a puff, I scurried toward my mess and bent down to pick up the bigger shards. The smaller pieces would need to be sweeped, but this was a start.
"What—," A pair of hands gripped my hips from behind. "—are you doing?" I was frozen, yet on fire.
Don't let your guard down.
"I think it's pretty obvious."
A hum in response.
"Come on. We're goin' home." Oh, he was out of his mind. For many reasons: I wasn't going to let him take me home, and I was going to pick up the glass first.
"Let me--,"
"Tiny Dancer!" Josh slid on his socks into the kitchen, idiotically forgetting that there were shards everywhere. Jake's hands instantly dropped from my body. "I will walk you home." That made me feel better. I'd rather be alone with the curly twin than the brooding one. Curly took my hand and led me toward the front door, where he slipped my coat on for me.
"We'll saunter through the streets, arm in arm, while singing some boastful tune. Ah yes, I can see it now." He theatrically spread his hand across the sky like an imaginary artist directing a vision. I could tolerate him. Definitely. The others...
"Wait!" Sammy appeared from behind me to pull me into a suffocating hug. He gave good ones, though. His embrace made me feel comforted in some weird way.
Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to my brain.
He pulled back, took my face between his hands, and pressed a singular kiss to my forehead. "I'll see you around, friend."
I said goodbye to Danny briefly, and was waiting for Jake to appear for farewells, but Josh pulled me into the apartment hallway before he could appear.
The disappointment settled deep in my chest cavity.
