Deep Shadows (A Niall Horan Fanfiction)

chapter 8

James offered to bring me home. All our car ride was quiet and unpredictable. Arctic Monkeys always playing on the radio. He did everything to always keep the flame of the conversation, making me questions about almost everything. My answers were a little questionable. The rest of the amount of alcohol still present in my veins, from time to time, stubbornly insisted on sanding my humble dignity, not like before, but I could say that prevented me from keeping a decent conversation. Despite all this, he seemed not to notice in my depressing state. Or, he is just so cute that pretended not to notice.

I can feel my body getting less heavy with every minute that passes. Battling to get back sober. 

"Thank you, James." He opened the passenger side door for me to get out.

"Don't thank me, it was nothing." He said in a low tone, holding my hand.

"It's pretty late, if you don't mind, I'd like to go get some sleep." Trying more gently, to appear not purposeful, I withdrew my hand from his and I saw his facial muscles tensing.

"Sure. Of course. I'm tying you, sorry." His eyes showed some disappointment with me, but what I said was not on purpose, it is actually true. I'm pretty tired.

"Just do me a favor, okay?" He muttered shortly after, and I nodded despite not knowing what to expect.

"Call me after you wake up, please." His left hand flew easily through his straight hair. 

"Okay..." My answer was short because I didn't know what to say. And I confess that I felt a little confused, but I didn't bother to try to understand why he was asking me this.

"Promise me." James insisted.

"I promise." I exaggerate the tone trying to convince him.

"I'll be waiting." He calmly stated.

"I already said that I promise." I muttered grumbling my words.

"Fine. I will trust. Goodnight, Jessie." His sweet words filled my ears and I felt the fresh air of his body hitting me as he gently began to walk to the driver's side. 

"Goodnight, James. And thanks, again." He released a little unexpected and genuine smile, slipped inside the car, and within seconds disappeared.

I know I said I'm tired, I really am, and I don't know why but my body looks like don't want to get inside. This night seems so unreal. Fragments of little actions of all night keep playing in my mind as if trying to call me to reality. Trying to alert me that was all truth. Connecting all the images to each other, as if making me relive the night again. Slaying my mind. I'm not that girl. I don't do that kind of things. That can't be me. Is this some kind of warning to the person I'm becoming? The alcohol made ​​me this. The alcohol made ​​me do everything that I did. It wasn't me. This is one of the reasons why I hate drinking. Mess with everything I have in my body. And I hate the fucking consequences I continued to put myself. It's ridiculous. I can't go back to drinking, again.

I really can't be serious, being here mentally accusing the alcohol for what I did. Trying to take the blame off of me. I'm surprised with myself.

After a quick and retarded reflection I finally decided to search for my keys in my purse. 

When I inserted the key into the lock of the house, Rebecca's house, I wondered if someone would be at home. I ran the key and turned my head back to check the parking lot. Mike's car is nowhere to be found. I can only see our cars and some others I don't recognize. The most likely is that they are not at home, right? I turned the key one last time, and I finally entered in the peace of home. They're not here, I sensed soon as I placed one foot inside the house.