Beer, Spaghetti, and Pharmaceuticals ||COMPLETED||

Thirteen Part 1

huge shoutout to @ElisionEditing ! Check out her page!!

Enjoy!

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The first snowflakes of the year gently fell on Alice's eyelashes as she and Blaise strutted to Isaac's favorite grungy hole-in-the-wall. One arm lazily linked through Blaise's, while her free hand grazed each worn down brick building they passed. Blaise nudged her side and handed her the flask of Fireball Whiskey, which she accepted eagerly. She twisted the cap off and slurped back a generous gulp, welcoming the warming cinnamon down her throat, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

    "Drinking while working was an excellent decision," she said as she stumbled over her own feet and leaned her head on Blaise's arm.

    "Probably the best decision we've ever had," he said, finishing the remains of the alcohol in the flask. "But definitely the worst decision in terms of productivity...we didn't really get much done after our third beer, did we?"

    "Ahhh, fuck productivity," she slurred, waving her hand in the air. "We're celebrating!"

    Blaise stopped in front of the familiar grungy wooden doors and unlinked his arm from Alice's. "Alright, here we are," he said. "Let's try not to act too drunk, okay? I'm not sure if Isaac would appreciate us working on his biggest investment while under the influence."

    "Isaac can fuckin' suck it if he has a problem with us drinking," she said, but when she noticed the way her vulgar words meshed together, she realized Blaise had a point. Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket and Mark's name lit up.

    "Have fun tonight! Let me know when you're on your way home xoxoxo," the text message read. She smiled, but felt her fingers were too sloppy to type out a proper response, so she put the phone back in her pocket.

    Loud classic rock and chatter from the drunk patrons filled their ears as they entered the unusually bustling pub. They spotted Isaac immediately sitting alone at a four-person table, his eyes were glued to the dusty television screen as he idly traced the lip of his pint glass. Alice took a second to admire the way his tie loosely hung down his neck, and how he still managed to hold an air of professionalism even with the top few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt undone. She didn't know when she began to appreciate how attractive men could look in suits. It must have started when she began working in an office setting; before she preferred the hoodie and jeans look on men.

    She shook her head to snap her out of her thoughts. Okay, Alice. Don't act drunk. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to remember how a sober person acts. When she opened them, Isaac's shining blue eyes rested right upon hers. His hands shot to his shirt, smoothing out any wrinkles that could be found and he straightened his posture. In the corner of her eye she could see Blaise smirk.

    When a small, almost serene, smile crept up his lips, Alice's prior intentions of acting sober flew out the window.

    "Isaac!" She squealed and lunged her entire body weight around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. "You're my heroooo."

    Blaise slapped his forehead.

    "Woah!" Isaac exclaimed as he tried to retain his balance as Alice's body drooped down his. "What are you talking about?"

    "You won the meeting!" She said several decibels too loud and grabbed his cheeks with her hands. He rolled his eyes, but a light shade of pink crept up his face. Slowly, he grabbed her wrists and gently peeled them away from his face.

    "I don't think you can 'win' meetings," he chuckled. "But sure, you can call me a hero. That's fine."

    "Is it really that heroic to do your job?" Blaise teased, setting his black leather jacket on the chair across from Alice.