A C T O R S || OS

186. Charlie Bewley | Party Animal

By : volturidoll13 | TumblrDemetri Volturi 

When you spend the night partying at a club in downtown Seattle, you end up bumping into the one and only Charlie Bewley himself... Literally. The man has clearly had one too many drinks, and when you offer to take him home, he all too happily obliges. But will he remember that night's events the next morning...?

• fluff; language; themes of alcohol and vomiting

-----

🍸READER'S POV 🍸

The thumping bass of the music in the club fills your ears as you down your second virgin cocktail of the night. You had vowed to yourself that you wouldn't drink tonight, that way you would be able to drive yourself home if things went south. As you glance around the dimly lit club, your gaze rests on some poor idiot being dragged out of the club.

You could swear you see a deep purple bruise already forming near the guy's left eye, but then again, it could just be the club lights playing tricks on you. With a light laugh, you down the rest of your drink before moving out onto the dance floor. The beat of the music now changes, something sultry and heavy, with even more bass than before.

As you're dancing, you accidentally bump into someone, causing them to spill some of their drink on you. "Great, now I'm going to smell like alcohol..." you think to yourself. As you turn around, you hear the person exclaim their apology over the sound of the music. "Shit, I'm sorry!" they shout. You can hear the clear British accent weaving through the words, making them sound more elegant than they should.

When you look up, you're immediately met with the cool blue gaze of... Oh, holy fuck. It's him. Charlie Bewley... here in the same club you're in. He stands there staring down at you, a now half-empty bottle of beer clutched in his left hand, those blue eyes of his slightly glazed over and just a tad unfocused. "Sorry 'bout that." he says, his words slurring a little.

Oh, he's had just a few too many to drink, hasn't he? You can all but smell the alcohol on his breath, though it could just be from the other club patrons. You offer him a light smile, shaking your head at him. "No, that's okay! That's what showers are for!" you shout over the music. You can hear his laughter as he nods in agreement.

Suddenly, he staggers back a little, his sense of balance thrown off. You reach forward, gently steadying him before prying the beer bottle from his hands and setting it on a nearby table. Seeing the look of confusion on his face, you shrug again. "I think you've had enough." you shout, loud enough for him to hear.

Before he can answer, he gets a familiar look on his face, one that you've seen many of the other club patrons get in the few times you've visited this place. It's the look of someone about to lose the contents of their stomach. With a panicked half-gasp, you grab ahold of his arm and pull him through the crowd of club-goers, the music fading behind you.

You hear Charlie's faint voice asking where the two of you are going, but you ignore him until you both are outside. You don't let go of his arm, instead dragging him over to some nearby bushes. Not even a second later, you watch as Charlie violently throws up into them. You wince, trying not to gag at the smell or sound, focusing instead on breathing in through the mouth and out through the nose.

As Charlie's vomiting slowly turns into dry heaves, you take a tentative step closer, patting him gently on the back. "This is why we don't drink excessively." you say softly. "How many did you have?" you add, raising a curious eyebrow at him. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand before slowly turning to face you, staggering a bit.