(Euphoria 1&2)
Nate Jacob's was many things, but a psychopath couldn't be one of them. Being a little psycho meant he couldn't feel anything and Nate could feel everything, especially with her-Alora McKay
He felt his crotch jump when she wore low cu...
Like I said before, I wrote this shit drunk off my ass and while I went a little off script than what I usually do—it didn't turn out as bad as the first drunk draft so I'm just gonna stick with it.
No smut in this chapter but the next one is about to be exceptionally graphic and pretty fucked up for my babygirl who always asks what to expect in the next chapter.
Love ya!
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Chapter 24: Definace
Despite popular belief—Fezco wasn't fucking stupid. What he lacked in book smarts he made up for in street intelligence. Which was why when Alora McKay sauntered into his store over an hour before school let out; her clothes reeking of weed with cash in hand with intent to buy more and dabble in something she never did before—Fezco's alarm bells were ringing louder than sirens on a police car.
"You've been blowing through that shit pretty fast," Fez spoke, a black and mild caught between his two fingers with intent to light up. Inquisitive blue eyes followed her form around the store, noting how she'd skipped past her usual choice of chips and settled before the register, her gaze fixated on the wall of liquor he kept. "You good?"
Alora heard him—he knew she did by the way her nails tapped nervously; almost compulsively on the countertop before pointing to the half-gallon of Tito's kept on the highest shelf. "Can you bring me down one of those?" She spoke, completely ignoring the worry that laced his tone. "—and some of those solo cups too." Alora dug through her purse, blowing back stray curls that fell loose from the claw clip holding half her hair out of her face. "Also, I'm gonna need some papers, dutches, woods—whichever you have really."
Fez's brows furrowed softly, slowly rounding the corner of the countertop to get what she'd asked for. "You throwing a party or something?"
He watched her shuffle through her wallet, taking out a crisp hundred dollar bill with a smile that was all wrong—it didn't reach her eyes. The same set warm browns he'd watched light up like a christmas tree, so full of life and promise had seemed to disintegrate before him. "Not throwing a party, just going to drown my sorrows in alcohol until I physically can't control my limbs."
Fezco slid the bottle just out of her grasp, staring at her so deeply Alora was sure that he was seeing her soul—watching as it crumbled to pieces under the pressure like diamond against diamond. Guilt filled his belly like acid, bubbling and boiling away; corroding at his bones until Fez wanted nothing more than to fall into a pathetic heap of limbs onto the floor. He knew he should've never allowed Alora to get involved with his business; positive that if she'd gotten too close that she'd end up hurt or drained of all innocence or both. "That's concerning."
"Got you all weighed up," Ashtray intervened, appearing from the back room hidden discreetly inside one of the fridges with a zip nestled between his hands. Even at such a young age, Ash could feel the tension in the air; razor cut brows raising in suspicion as he looked from Alora to Fezco with pursed lips. "What's going on here?"
