𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ; 𝐟𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢

- 8. | heart shaped

I've been waiting since
last March to post this chapter
ongkfjfnfm

y'all— I really hope you
go feral for it

LEMME SEE THEM
COMMENTS BBYS
BLOW IT UPPP

_________________

 

 

All you could remember was the bright lights, fizzy alcohol, and pole dancing. You'd been up on stage, set in a small party room. The neon lights were glowing purple, and the music was loud, bass pounding into your feet as you danced up and around the pole.

You two were good at what you did. You knew how to work together well, and did your jobs without much complaining.

Man. That was one hell of a party!

 
As the fog fills your brain, your eyes open with a harsh flutter. The room was trashed, and dark, purple lights are dim and glowing. It reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. You let out a soft groan, feeling the pounding of aches filling your head and eyes.

Why the hell are you still here?

Slowly, you sit up, taking a quick scan around the room. Your brows furrow. What the actual fuck happened last night?

Your hand raises to wipe your eyes of tiredness, but there's a weight pulling it down. Something soft was clung around your wrist. You frown, turning your blurry vision to see whatever it was that's stuck to you.

Heart shaped handcuffs.
FUZZY, heart shaped handcuffs.

Your stomach sinks, and your eyes follow the chain up to the arm connected to the other side; all the way until it reaches a familiar face.
Beside you, is a passed out Fizzarolli. Parts of his jester clothing are ripped off, leaving just his normal shirt, striped pants and hat; the ruffle collar laying somewhere on the floor ahead of you.

Your stomach sunk. Oh shit, shit, shit.

You were cold, and that was saying something, in hell. Looking down, you notice that you were still in your stripper fit from last night. The floor was marble tile, so it made sense that it was chilly against your bare skin.

"Oh, fuck." You mumble, gathering your head together. You pry at the cuffling, and try to wriggle your wrist out of it, but literally to no use.
Your eyes flick over to Fizz's seemingly lifeless body on the floor beside you.

This was bad, right?
Being at Ozzie's overnight without a purpose could have you kicked out.

But, why was a part of you not as freaked out as you maybe should be?

"Fizz, wake up." Your hand shoves his shoulder.
His head lifts slowly, body starting to come more to life as he looks at you through heavy, tired eyes. A groan escapes his lips, and he sits up holding his head. "What the—" catching his eyes gaze over your revealing body once, you frown as he stretches himself out.

"Holy shit." He says, eyes trying to focus on the room. It was destroyed. "Where'd the party go?" He frowns.

"I think it's over," you inform him.