𝒯𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹

Chapter 𝟙

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A chill trickled down my spine as I flared my nostrils, enjoying the very familiar scent I tried to avoid for about one year. One whole year. And here I am, letting all the effort easily slip because of an asshole. I shake off any thought of him, making my way to the kitchen. I hardly manage to move as I'm squeezed between sweaty bodies that smell of alcohol. When I finally reached what looked like a kitchen to me, I inhaled the somehow fresh air.

Scanning my surroundings, I find the kitchen an elegant one with nice decor. The lights are dim, creating a relaxing atmosphere that is, unfortunately, hard to relax to due to the music blasting at full volume and the loud chattering noises. The cabinets were made of a dark brown shade of wood and the walls were painted in a dark color causing the dark colors to mix beautifully creating an eye-pleasing sight. I find an unoccupied barstool and hurry to seat myself. The surface of the stool was hard as there was no type of cushion placed atop. My bum was a little sore from the solid texture.

     My eyes land on an untouched bottle of vodka. Outstretching my hand to take a grip on the beautiful bottle, I smirk slightly to myself. I decide on two shots, grabbing two small cups to pour in the colorless acidic liquid. In the back of my mind, there's a little voice begging me not to down the two neat shots before me. I'm staring at the cups, contemplating whether I should just back off and deal with the break-up healthily or fuck it up and drink, which will more likely cause me to go back to drinking. I interrupted my mental debate by firmly grabbing a cup and throwing my head back as I downed the drink. I could feel a tingle run through my bones, from my fingers to my toes. The liquid burned as it made its way down my throat. I throw my head back downing the second shot.

The music tuned out long ago and I lost count of the amount of shots I've taken. My shoulders droop from their previously tense state. It's fascinating how a simple bottle of colorless liquid can make me feel this good and carefree. Maybe I should marry this beautiful bottle. Can a human marry a bottle? Is she even into me? As I'm about to search the web for answers to these very important questions, I'm interrupted by a voice.

"Hey there, beautiful," a hoarse voice started.

Beautiful. Just like that, I'm brought back to reality. My whole body tensed as the pet name rang in my ears. I clench my fists, startled by the loud music coming back to earshot. He used to call me that. And at this moment, it seemed to me that, no matter how many shots I take or how many bottles of beer I drink, I will never be able to move on from that asshole. It pains me how open I was with him. The secrets I shared with him. The vulnerability I showed to him. Hell, I even gave up my virginity to him. He made me live through some of the best memories of my life, then made me relive them with so much pain. I reviewed every happy moment I spent with him to remind myself that the dickhead never loved me.

     I was too blind to realize I was the only one in love. I was too busy falling for him to realize the actual shit he was doing on his boys night's. Remembering the look on his face when I came in on when he was cheating the last night I saw him, I'd never forget the look on his face: it was one mixed with several different emotions that contained not a faint trace of guilt.

    That guy who said "Love is blind," was right. The guy with the funny collar. He had my middle name, I think. Oh, William Shakespeare. Funny guy. Zayn told me about him. Said he's interested in his stories. Speaking of Zayn, he'd be upset with me if he found out where I truly am, considering I told him I was going on a walk to calm my nerves.

"Earth to pretty boy, are you here?" The man I nearly forgot about said with a chuckle.

"Earth to the ugliest shit of a human I've ever seen, what do you want?" My comment was rude, but I didn't care.

"Woah, easy there," I could hear him smirking while talking. "Feisty much, eh?" He whispered, leaning closer to me.

"What do you want?" Exasperated, I faced the irritating stranger, who was smirking so hard I wished his face would break or something.

His response was leaning closer to me. His bottom lip was trapped in between his teeth as he shamelessly hovered over me, his eyes roaming around my face. He drew his mouth close to my ear and whispered in an oh-so-seducing manner, leaving a wet kiss under my ear.

"Just want to have some fun, mhm," his words slurred.

He moved his hand and laid his palm on my clothed crotch. I gasped, clearly taken aback by the action. Enough is enough. I shoved him away from me harshly as I hastily stood up. Walking away, I raised my middle finger with my eyes still adjusted on him despite my body turning in a direction away from him.

"I'm not fucking interested," I practically shouted at him. "Ever heard of consent?"

The man was just taken aback by the whole event that just took place. I didn't give a shit about the several couples of eyes switching between my angry state and the man's frazzled one. Glaring at him and walking away, I brought my palm up to the previously kissed area on my neck, wiping the stranger's disgusting saliva away. My night that was supposed to be getting hammered and enjoying myself now turned into a very unpleasant one with a stranger throwing himself on me and the effect of alcohol fading away.

When I decided glaring at the man was enough, I turned my head, planning to walk out of this place. Just when I was about to leave the kitchen, I bumped into two boys. They both wrapped their arms around each other's shoulders.

Thoughts? x