Intoxicated 'I love you'

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Based upon the song of the same name.

Simon's heart fluttered as Sophie laughed at his pathetic attempt at a joke, making him smile. The loud music blaring around them made him uncomfortable, but he put it all aside to talk to her. Her. He loved everything about her, he had done for a long time. Every smile, her voice, the way she laughed. He loved the way her smell, her perfume lingered on his skin when she touched his shoulder. She cared about him, and that was more than what anyone else could give him. He was surprised at first, when he was invited to her party, even moreso when she decided to talk to him when her friends were over there, having fun and dancing. But here she stood, talking calmly despite the beat of the song and speaking to him, some lonely weirdo who got angry too quick and had no friends. Except her.

She sipped at her Vodka and lemonade, eyes soft with the smile she held. Sophie was on her third drink of the night, and it was starting to take affect. She was tipsy, giggly and wanted to have fun, after all, it was her birthday. Her usual stress had melted away, and she felt free to do as she pleased for the night. She watches as Simon gives in and grabs a drink too, grinning as he finally lets loose and takes a gulp. The conversation takes a playful turn as Simon moves on to his second Vodka, only this time with coke. He quite likes it, he decides, and finishes it quick for another. Sophie giggles out at Simon's mention of somebody her brain doesn't quite process and a string of cusses to follow, but she didn't mind. Soon, everybody was distracted with dancing and such, Sophie had finished her drink, and stood to the side along with Simon, watching. They played a game of 'who's gonna go home with who?' in their drunken stupor. Everyone was having a good time, it showed. Sophie turns to Simon, and smiles in a way he can't quite understand. Before he could process it, he was softly pushed against the wall, being kissed clumsily and amateurishly. His face was red, feeling her hips against his. Their heads were tilting and his eyes were slipping closed before he knew it, he was cupping her cheeks and holding her close. Sophie pulls away, and Simon panics, thinking he's done something wrong, until she leans to his ear. 

"I want you to be my first one and I want your first one to be me." 

He nods hastily, eager to oblige and returns her grip on his hand. They stumble down the stairs, quick to find a room unoccupied. People were hooting and hollering but they didn't care, they needed this. When they find a place, Sophie takes lead. Simon's breath seemed to shorten as he's pushed down onto the floor, feeling her crawl on top of him. His mind is taking in everything that's happening at once, feelings and sensations pooling in his stomach and heightening his senses. He hears her breathing so clearly and it's music to his ears. Clothes are sloppily thrown off or moved away, desperate to get to what they so desired. Simon's chest is tight as she moans out his name, something in the back of his mind knowing how wrong this was. Sophie felt it too, but pushed it aside in favour of the rush she had, knowing what she needed and that she needed to have it. Badly.


When they finally stumble through the door, holding hands, Sophie's friends, and some other people they don't know too well, rush them in an instant. They tease and laugh, patting Simon on the back and ruffle Sophie's already messed up hair. Things were good. Simon was beaming with pride on finally doing something for once. Sophie was his and he was happy. He was finally a man and it had happened in the best way possible, to his long time crush. The rest of the party goes by in a blurr. He can barely remember, his mind overcrowded with what had happened. Her. Sophie. He smelled just like her, and when he'd got home, slept with a smile on his face and woke up with a hangover. He spent the rest of the weekend chipper and even interacted with his mother.


Walking into school on Monday, he was giddy to see her again. He wanted to hold her hand in front of everyone and feel the accomplishment of having her in his arms. He wanders into the courtyard and spots her. It was still early, not many people in yet. Now was the perfect time to walk up. He took a deep breath and smiled, walking up to her and pecking her cheek gently,  a hand on her waist. Sophie freezes. They lock eyes and she just sort of... Stares at him. "What's wrong?" Simon says awkwardly, removing his hand. It was like he'd just burned her or something. "Simon, listen... I know what happened was..." She gesticulated for a second, her face going from sympathetic to furious. "Look, I don't love you and I never did! You're just a number in my pocket so get the hell over it!" He takes a step back, seemingly hit by the force of her words. Simon splutters, choking on what he wanted to say, what he needed to say and the curses lodged in his throat. His body shook, tears unwillingly spilling from his eyes. He felt sick to his stomach, giving his all, his first to a girl who meant everything to him, when she felt nothing for him. "Sophie..." He mumbles, seeing her eyebrows knitted together angrily. He tries to speak, to stop being so pathetic over something that should mean so little to him. Her face softens slightly, pity filling her voice. "Get the hell over it." She says softly, a disgusted look in her eyes. Simon grabs the strap of his bag until his knuckles went white, lips quivering. "Fuck you." He spits, turning on his heel and storming out of the courtyard, through the halls and out the door. He hops the gate of the school, trying and trying to light a cigarette with the shaking of his hands. When he finally manages, he takes a drag. It steadies the shakes, but doesn't quell the anxiety welling in his chest, devouring him whole like a virus. "Fuck..." He whispers out, wiping his eyes with the palm of his hand. The confrontation had made him nervous, and he only made his vision blurrier as he wiped the sweat into his eyes, cursing again. Simon knew he couldn't face Sophie again. He couldn't go to school, and when they came for him, forcing him in, he knew he'd try his damndest to avoid her.

Sophie, vicious and spraying poison in her words. A regretful black widow with shaking limbs as she tried to forget the smell of Simon lingering on her skin. Her.

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