CARNIVORE [MxM+]

Chapter 6 [REVISED]

Alexei Abbots.

THE CEILING IS BLURRY. All around me, muffled laughter and music play loudly. The alcohol laced in everyone's blood is the cause of the unbridled happiness that we all share. It's also the reason I feel like me again. Who knew being hated for existing felt so terrible when you were alone?

"Stay the fuck, away from me, faggot."

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the memory. 

I rub my eyes to try to clear them and sit up. Around me, my five friends prepare to play 'spin the bottle'. Funny enough, the first bottle somehow shattered, which made us attempt a serious, sober cleanup that wasn't taken seriously at all. Luckily, the glass was somehow swept and thrown in a bin, and we had plenty of bottles to go around. 

I sit and watch; the bottle doesn't often land on me, so I'm soft-spoken, rarely interacting. But that's okay, I enjoy it just the same. 

An hour goes by. My brain turns to mush. My body is its own. 

The game barely exists now.

I observe my friends, the alcohol taking its toll in different ways. Twenty minutes ago, Jesse dared Day to kiss Hailey, forgetting they were into each other. Jesse and Day were best friends (Jesse liked Day more than that). It was hard to separate them, especially when inebriated. They get clingy like toxic exes. Day and Hailey have been together as an actual couple in that same clingy way, but they've moved on to actually being toxic exes. I couldn't help but feel a little bad while Jesse tried poorly to hide his jealousy, considering Day and Hailey were still going at it like dogs. 

Jesse lasted another five minutes before huffing to himself like a grumpy kitten. He wordlessly got up, knocking slightly into Day's back before wrapping himself in a throw blanket from the bed. He passed out immediately, sleeping like a baby on the floor. I noticed his odd position, half his body being shoved under the bed. I have to remember not to step on him when I get up.

I look a little bit to my right, and sitting in the corner with her laptop on her legs and earbuds in is Claire, catching up on the new season of some show that I'm sure is filled to the brim with helpless romantics and unnecessary drama like she always is. Claire is a recluse to say the least, but she loves being around people at the same time. It took some getting used to, but everyone was more than adjusted to the fact that she never wanted to actually interact with us most of the time. 

"Hey," a tired voice sounded from behind me, a pair of arms wrapping around my torso. I'm pulled into a warm chest. That's right, almost forgot. 

"Max?" His face gets buried into the crook of my neck while his arms tighten. All I get is a quiet groan in response. 

"Ah, right, forgot you're an affectionate drunk." He lets out a little giggle while inhaling my shirt, and I can tell it's time for him to sleep. I lean over to push his head onto a pillow and make sure he lies on his side. He doesn't really fight. 

"Stay here, okay? I'm gonna go get some water." Another groan.

I carefully rise from the bed, watching where my feet go so I don't step on the sleeping giant that is Jesse. Speaking of my feet, I just noticed I somehow lost a sock. Weird. 

I sway-make my way to the door (I'm more drunk than I thought), and Claire watches me momentarily before whispering, asking for a water bottle. I nod in return. Then the door opens, and the slight chill of the hardwood seeps into my unclothed foot and my uncovered arms. I cross my arms to hold some warmth and find the stairs.