Will We Talk?

26- Drinking

Not having to work was surprisingly refreshing, especially as it was during the lead up to Christmas. I had plenty of time to acquire gifts, sort winter days out and spend a little bit of time with Sam and for myself.

So far, the house hunt was looking promising. There was a nice apartment right on the coastline of Tynemouth that the two of us adored. The view of the sea was gorgeous. We decided we'd put an offer down on it as soon as we had viewed it. Now, all we had to do was wait.

In the meantime, Sam moved into my flat until we found a home. Saying goodbye to the place we first had sex was quite the experience. Emptying the house and moving it all to mine was also an experience that I wish to forget.

Some might say we were moving too quick, but it was easier this way, rather than flicking back and forth between flats all of the time.

What would prove tricky, though, is the plan for Christmas. While I can't take him from his family, he can't take me away from mine. A compromise was yet to be made, but we were good at working together, so it shouldn't be all too difficult.

Currently, he was at the studio. So I took it as a chance to start wrapping presents, while I played my record player in the background.

I had owned the record player since I was around 9 and had an obsession with buying vinyls all the time. That obsession had obviously stuck throughout the years.

I sat there, humming along to the tunes, wrapping presents and drinking a glass of chardonnay. Maybe by the time I was finished, I was a tad bit tipsy as I started belting all of the songs that were playing. My vision was also going funky, so I decided to stop with the alcohol and moved onto apple juice.

When I turned and saw Sam stood in the doorway, after I'd been singing and dancing around the room for a while, I nearly shat myself. Luckily, all of the presents were wrapped and I'd hidden them already. He'd never heard me sing, but what a way to find out what I sounded like as I stood tall on the settee.

"When were you going to tell me you could sing like that?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"I dunna." I giggled, "You really think I have a good voice." I pouted, suddenly feeling emotional.

What the fuck? Why was I upset? I never got this upset, ever. Perhaps it was the alcohol. It probably was the alcohol, after all, I'd finished 1 and a half bottles of chardonnay.

"Have you been drinking?" he snorted, observing me closely.

"Maybe a little bit." I stood on the floor now, feeling myself sway a little, holding up my thumb and index finger to emphasise the little bit.

"Great, I'm loving this." he chuckled, holding his hand out for me to take.

"You love me?" I whimpered, following Sam wherever he was taking me.

The whole house felt like it was spinning, and I felt myself slowly stumbling over my own feet.

"You know I love you, babe." he sniggered, sitting me on the edge of our bed, "Right, take your clothes off." he demanded, an amused look on his face.

"Oh, yes please." I slurred, "Will you take them off?" I winked, holding my arms up in the air for him to take my shirt off.

He sighed, approaching me with a fresh pair of pyjamas and placing them on the bed. My shirt was lifted off and bra unclipped by him. Then he put a shirt on me, much to my dismay. He then unbuttoned my flares, pulling them from over my ankles. Immediately, he pulled some matching pants over my bottom half, telling me to stand up so they'd go around my hips.

"I was expecting better." I mumbled, laying myself on the bed.

"Not when your in this state, pet." he chuckled, stripping himself off to put his own pyjamas on.