After the Storm

Drunk Fun (Part 3)

Creds to LightxShadow for the phrase 'pompous money-hogging arse'.

And thanks to LightxShadow Xanackerman for spamming me with comments hahahaha.

VOTE AND COMMENT! Oh and please read the previous chapter if you haven't.

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"Mr Ambrose." I shook him gently. "Wake up."

"Hmm."

"Hurry!" My shaking became more violent. "Knowledge is power is time is―"

"Macaroni." He mumbled.

I groaned. This man was insufferable. "Get up! We have to go inside." My whole arm was numb. His head wasn't light and having it lean on me for half an hour didn't suit well with my limb.

"No." His body sunk lower and his head came to rest on a female spot that any man would get slapped for looking at, much less touching.

Or at least I would slap any man who dared commit that heinous action. Anne and Maria, my dear air-headed sisters, would most likely revel in their sick glances. I wouldn't be surprised if they even allowed any 'eligible' man fondle them there.

My breath lodged in my throat when he snuggled further into that area. I was quite lacking in the front department compared to the back, but it was still sufficient to support half his head.

Push him off!

"Ge-get off!" I demanded however my arms stayed frozen. Those blasted appendages!

It actually feels quite nice to have his head rest on my chest...

Lilly! My staunch suffragette admonished.

I shook all those unfeminist thoughts out of my head. Get him off. Yes! I had to get him off.

Mustering all my strength, I gave Mr Ambrose a mighty shove.

"Ark!"

My boss tumbled side ways. I grabbed his arm just before he could fall out of the chaise onto the gravel road. He ended up with half a body in the coach and the other half out of it, his long legs kicking aimlessly at the ground.

"Use your feet you plonker!"

I pushed him slowly out of the chaise while he fumbled to get a steady footing. "Ouch!" His head hit the roof as he tried to get out.

I was tempted to scream and bang my head against the cracked leather seat. This was like looking after a silly toddler. Of course, I had no experience with that but I had heard some terrifying stories about those drooling ankle-biters.

Mr Ambrose eventually wormed his way out of the undersized chaise. He stumbled in circles then turned towards the dim alley next to his building, wielding his voice like a whip. "What are you doing there?"

"What?"

He ignored me. "Leave!" He snapped at the darkness.

He must be off his rocker! I crawled out of the chaise and peaked at the street over his shoulder. There was nothing there.

"Sir?" I tapped him on the shoulder.

"What?" He whirled around, his frigid gaze making me take a surprised step back. He was acting weird, very weird. One moment he was all drowsy and confused, and the next he was back to his old self.