Hating Grayson ✓

04

"You're a lightweight." Grayson said as we walked down the street, the faint sound of the party fading behind us.

"I h-had like uh," Hiccup "seventeen drinks?" I honestly did not keep count.

My head was pounding as I staggered towards a bush and puked again.

"Fuuuuuuuuck!" I growled.

This is so disgusting....

I wiped my lips with the sleeve of my shirt, walking away from where I had just purged and slowly slumping down onto the sidewalk and lying down on my back with a soft groan.

I was honestly out of it. Alcohol, I do not recommend it.

"Come on, get up." Grayson ordered.

I groaned again.

"Get the fuck up, little Cooper."

"Leave me to the street." I mumbled.

I was drunk, tired, and did I mention drunk?

"Alright, come on." He encouraged, leaning down to take my hands with his.

His hands were soft and warm as they gripped onto mine, pulling me up in a quick surge. When I was vertical again, he held me up as my body threatened to sink back to the ground.

"Fuck." He whispered to himself.

"Here," he said, stepping in front of me and kneeling down with his back facing me. "Get on my back." He ordered.

I fell onto his back, slumping my head over his right shoulder.

"Put your arms around my shoulders." He ordered.

So bossy.

I drunkenly complied.

He slowly rose from the ground as I wrapped my legs around his waist. "At least you don't weigh a tonne." He chuckled, walking further down the street.

"And please do not vomit on me." He implored, though it sounded more like he was praying to god.

"Where are we going?" I asked in a mumble.

"I'm taking you home, idiot."

"Why are you always so m-mean to me?" I wondered quietly over his shoulder.

"I am not mean." He said.

"Yeah you are. You're an asshole." I told him, my eyelids becoming heavy.

"I'm an asshole to everyone." Was his excuse.

I just mumbled gibberish and rested my chin over his shoulder as the street blurred by.

Minutes passed by, though it felt like eons, and we had finally made it to my house. Only the porch light was on, which meant my parents were asleep.

"How the fuck am I going to carry you onto the roof and to your window?" He asked.

I just mumbled again.

"Great advice." He said sarcastically.

He carried me through the left side of the house, opening the gate and closing it quietly before setting me down on the ground. I stumbled as my feet touched the earth. His hands gripped me, keeping me from staggering into the potted plants beside me.

"Is there a ladder?" He asked, taking a look around.

"Hmmm, check by fence?" I suggested drunkenly with zero clue as to where my dad would've put the ladder. I didn't even know if we had a ladder.

He wandered over toward the fence to take a look as I staggered backward a few steps. I steadied myself before I could fall back into the gate.

"Found it." He whispered loud enough for me to hear.