The Inventor

Chapter Nineteen; "Loud and clear"

     You pulled Minho into the workshop by his wrist, laughing with a bubbly air around you two.

     You felt him kiss you again, muffling your cackle and you both went stumbling on the hardwood floor, rolling on your backs. Both of you were drunk off your heads, laughing and still finishing off a jar.

     You heaved from your laughing, gripping your sides until it subsided. You even wiped tears from your eyes.

     "Why would you think that was the right time?!" You exclaimed.

     "I was feeling it, ya know? Go with the flow type."

     You cackled more, feeling everything spin when you laughed too hard. You had a drunk person's vision, you knew it and you couldn't care less because you weren't drunk alone. You were drunk with Minho and that seemed to make everything so much more intoxicating.

     You dragged yourself up to lean against the wall, Minho following you seconds later. You fanned yourself with your shirt, overheating in the warm room.

     "We totally made this room ten times hotter," Minho said, "Or is it just you?"

     "No, I used the blowtorch earlier today, it makes things a little toasty," It took you a few seconds to realize he was flirting, "Oh your flirting!"

     "Yeah I'm flirting, what were you doing?!" He says, you put your head in your hands and laugh.

     "I didn't realize it!"

     He poked your side a few times, "You're soooo drunk."

     "Newties gonna kill us!" You sang in a sing-song voice.

     "So dead," He agreed, "Did you tell him I kissed you?"

     "Well," You paused, battling with the haze in your head for a response.

     "You did, didn't you?!"

     "I had to! I had no one else to talk about it with! Who else was I going to tell?!"

     "How am I still breathing?!"

     "Because Newtie doesn't care!" You insisted, opening the vile jar and taking another swig, wiping the corner of your mouth when some leaked out. He took a drink next, too drunk to even waterfall it.

     It was easier to talk about these things when you were out of your right mind, so bubbly and carefree that you couldn't care less when you kissed or if you talked about it.

     "All good things, all good things," You assured him.

     You leaned against his side and he opened an arm to pull you so that you lay diagonally in front of him, propped up by a table. You rested your elbow on his shoulder and messed with his already tousled hair.

     "Got no feeling, I got no rhythm. I just keep losing my beat!" He sang in a surprisingly smooth alto, "I'm okay, I'm alright. I ain't gonna face no defeat!"

     You laughed, shoving his face, "Shut up!"

     "I just gotta get out of this prison cell! One day, someday I'm gonna be-"

     You clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle his singing, listening to him still finish the sentence off without care.

     Moving your hands, he sang as loud as he possibly could, "Find me somebody to love!"