Coder Girl 2 /Dreamwastaken/

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As two of them stumbled out of the car, I closed the curtains aggressively, almost ripping them off the rods.

"Should we go check on them?" Nick asked.

"You can go, I'm not coming," I frowned. I wasn't looking forward to seeing that dumb idiot, let alone while he was drunk.

Nick chuckled at my expression. “I couldn't care less, honestly.”

Before he even finished his sentence, we heard what could only be them tripping over something again, followed by another fit of loud giggles coming from George.

I groaned, closing my eyes, "Jesus fucking Christ, I hope at least one of them is dead."

The sound of objects falling and breaking followed, along with some even more obnoxious yells, swear words and laughter. As if this situation couldn’t get any worse, they were out there breaking the house.

Nick bit the corner of his lip nervously. “Uh.. you wanna go check now?” He sighed.

I had no other choice than to nod. We made our way outside, hesitantly following the sounds from where they were coming from. For some reason they were in the backyard.

It wasn't hard to guess who had more to drink than their body could take, cause George was on the floor clutching his sides, tears rolling down his face from laughing too hard. And he didn’t even notice us.

Clay was in the middle of picking up the remaining chunks of the garden gnome they had just broken, which honesty, I'm kinda glad they did. He looked up as we walked in, a drunk grin on his face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest, my gaze mainly directed at Clay.

I wanted Nick to match my energy and be more strict with them, but when I saw how hard he was trying to stifle a laugh as he leaned against the wall and looked at the two idiots on the floor, I realized I was alone in this battle.

"Hey," Clay greeted me lazily.

"Shut the fuck up." I tried to be nice and composed, but clearly, I failed.

"Fuck, that's fucking hot," Clay's grinned drunkenly, "come shut me up, baby."

I glanced at Nick, my face clearly expressing that this whole thing was pointless and a waste of brain cells.

Nick nodded in silent agreement, shaking his head at the scene before us.

Even though Clay sensed the disappointment on our faces, his smirk didn’t leave. "What, can a man not have a night out with his buddy?"

While he was distracted talking to me, George tried to stand up but instantly lost his balance. He fell once but didn't give up and attempted to get up again. He was about to fall again when Clay’s hand quickly grabbed his arm, stabilizing him.

"Is the alleged buddy that useless piece of meat?" I cringed, looking at them.

"Heyy..." George slurred the single word he was trying to pronounce.

"You think this is normal?" My face twisted with more disappointment as I looked at what was happening before my eyes. George practically couldn't stand up, talk or even maintain eye contact.

George clung to Clay for support, so dizzy that standing on his own was a struggle. Meanwhile, Clay, either not drunk enough or more tolerant of alcohol, had both hands full, dealing with the broken head of the stupid gnome and trying to keep George upright.

"We were just having a little fun. You should try it sometime." He gave me a playful wink.

"Oh, I'll make sure, don't worry." I shot daggers at him with my glare before turning to Nick, "Take them inside. I can't with this."

Nodding, Nick snickered as he slowly approached the two. "Come on, dumbasses." He grabbed George by the arm and swung it over his shoulder, "You can walk on your own, right?" He turned to make sure Clay didn't need any help, and got an assuring nod in return.

As they left, Clay's gaze still lingered on me, clearly with no intention to leave just yet. Even when he was drunk his massive ego kept his brain alert to send the satisfaction signals through. He was just enjoying my attention, my annoyance, the fact that he was able to get under my skin.

I would have loved to turn around and leave, but when he casually made his way over to me, his overconfident demeanor made me stand straight and face him.

With his height advantage, he was looking down at me. "Looks like someone’s not too happy tonight," he said it so smugly that I didn't even care that it was because he's drunk. He was getting on my last nerve.

"Probably overreacting as always. But your stupidity still manages to surprise me. Every time I think you can't possibly top that, you actually do."

Clay’s smirk faltered for a moment as he heard my response. He wasn’t quite drunk enough to not feel the tiny pang of guilt that hit his chest, but he quickly covered it up with a scoff.

"Don't be like that," he murmured, his hands creeping down to my hips and pulling me closer. "Let's go to our room," his hands slipped to my lower back, then lower. "We can talk this out."

Despite how annoyed I was, I couldn’t help but shiver slightly as his hands slid across my body, his fingers digging into my flesh.

"There's nothing to talk about," I muttered stubbornly. "And I'm sure your idea of talking involves stuff other than talking."

"C'mon, should I really use my tongue for talking when I can use it for better things?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, "Things that don't require talking and are just as effective."

I pushed him away, deciding that it was just enough for me to question my whole existence. Clay let out a small annoyed sigh.

"Ugh, you just have to be difficult."

"I'd demonstrate real difficulty if you weren't drunk," I frowned, "but now that your dick's a bigger organ than your brain, just fuck off and let me deal with my own shit."

"What?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, right. Can't even understand shit," I chuckled in disbelief, "thinking with the wrong head again."

He groaned, closing his eyes for a moment, "You really know how to be pissy when you’re mad, don’t you? I’m just trying to have some fun after a shitty day, and you’re making me feel guilty.”

"Aww no... poor baby," I mocked, "Can't believe I ruined your fun little day. How could I?"

"You're being a bitch, you know that?"

Before I'd lose my shit again and start an even bigger fight than what we had yesterday, which I was about to do, Nick appeared out of nowhere and tugged from my arm.

"Come on," he mumbled, giving my arm another tug as he motioned towards the door.

Clay’s gaze darted from me to Nick, his brain slowly processing what was happening. He opened his mouth to protest, but Nick beat him to it.

"No, man. You're drunk. You don’t want to cause any more damage tonight."

His tone was convincing enough for Clay's shoulders to slump down in defeat. We parted ways without a further comment, but the hundred possible comments kept simmering in my brain throughout the whole night.