A Soulmate's Love

Chapter 78 - Loving on Pause

Last night, the girls and I decided that the best way of dealing with George would be to act neutrally with him until the anger and multitude of intense anger dissipates. That way, I wouldn't say or do anything to him without thinking clearly. I think that this was a pretty good plan because I was not the screaming type. To be honest, if someone upset me to the point where I wanted to scream at them, they didn't deserve any more of my energy. Plus, I was so tired that screaming at George was not at the top of my list. Sleeping was, and I haven't been able to in the longest time.

I couldn't sleep last night, thanks to my new boyfriend called Insomnia, so I sneaked over to the kitchens to get a coffee to stay occupied. Draco had been thinking of the same thing, so I ended up meeting him in the kitchen - scaring the shit out of each other. We ended up ditching the coffee and drinking scotch until the sun rose.

Long story short, I was drunk all night and still happen to be in the morning. Draco and I near emptied that bottle of scotch, and as I walked back to the Gryffindor common room so early in the morning, drunk on Tequila, Scotch, and Whiskey, I thought of Jacques and how this was a regular occurrence for us. Now that I think about it, Jacques was the exact combination of Draco, Theo, and me. I'm sure that he would get along great with the Slytherin boys.

I was so focused on looking down at my feet to make sure that they walk in a straight line without tripping that I didn't notice that the red and gold common room was not as empty as I thought it was.

"Are you drunk, love?" I heard a familiar asshole ask from my right, but I knew that the second I looked up, I would lose my balance so I kept my focus on my feet. In response, however, I put my middle finger up at him - way for staying neutral, you alcoholic fuck. All I needed to do was keep my mouth shut because when I'm drunk, I'm too honest. I'm a real talker once I have alcohol in my system, so to prevent myself from saying anything, I bit my lip. "Tell me how mad you are, darling. Shout at me, hit me again, whatever you need."

"I'm too mad to talk to you," I said, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

"Then hit me - as hard as you'd like, and as many times as you need." At this point, it sounded like he was pleading with me to beat him up, and while the proposition sounded amazing, I couldn't let myself be taken away by my emotions. I was taught to stay poised and controlled, and regardless of how much I was struggling with him, I had to maintain the act.

"I'm too disgusted with you to touch you." I blurted, my drunken honesty getting the best of me. I shut my mouth immediately afterwards, cursing how he knew I was an honest drunk.

"Then hex me, darling." I wanted to laugh at how George was actually begging me to hurt him.

"You can't call me darling - this relationship is on pause." You see, when I started to get tipsy, my thoughts often articulated themselves in words without me wanting to. And right now, I was really drunk.

I stopped at the stairs leading up to the girl's dorm, the steps distorting and spinning the more I looked at them. Yup, that wouldn't work. Turning on my heels, resulting in a small stumble forward, I targeted the loveseat a few feet ahead of me while keeping my focus on my feet.

"I'm so sorry for what I said last night, Althea." He said, cutting the silence. A sorry won't cut it, buddy. I scoffed at his apology, unable to stop the humoured smile from making its way onto my face. Sorry? That's what he has to say? Bullshit.

I finally reached my destination and sat down, pulling my knees to my chest and analyzing my watch. I was too drunk to figure out how to change the time from the Monaco time, and everything was too small for my tired eyes to make out.

"I need to go get a new one..." I mumbled quietly to myself, having forgotten about George.

"Althea Victoria," He called out, making me look up in reflex before instantly bringing my gaze back down, although I didn't miss the glance of him I got. He had light bags under his eyes as if he hadn't slept much last night, and his hair was all messy - as if he had never stopped running his hands through it.