Becoming Beautiful (Wattys2014)

| Chapter 27 |

 

AMAZING BANNER TO THE SIDE BY TANII915 WHICH IS WHY SHE GETS A DEDICATION IN THIS CHAPTER! It's actually the official Becoming Beautiful banner! :)

Chapter 27

“Now you choose to talk to me?” I asked him, closing the door. I stood there, staring at the back of his head. He brought a beer bottle up to his lips and tipped it back, swigging it. I recall seeing the six pack in the fridge when Lukas was here. I guess he didn’t bother to do something with it.

“Well, I am under the influence, aren’t I?” he told me. Even drunk, he’s a sarcastic little idiot. But I like this sarcastic little idiot.

“What do you want?” I inquired in an annoyed tone. The idiot had me worried sick that he’d done something rash all because he was too drunk to answer a phone.

“Can you help me upstairs to my room?” he requested in quieter voice.

“What?” I asked him in shock.

“I keep stumbling and falling. I almost whacked my head on the table about ten minutes ago,” he murmured.

Sighing loudly, I walked over to him, grabbing his extended hand and throwing it around my shoulders. I ignored his intoxicating smell and the way he leaned on me as if I was the only thing keeping him up, as if I was his pillar. Literally, I am, because if I were to take one step forward, he would probably fall down the steps thanks to his impaired motor skills.

“You’re frustrating,” I muttered once we reached the second floor. I continued to bring him to his room, planning to drop him on his bed and leave the house immediately.

“I know,” he responded once I opened the door to his bedroom. Practically dragging him in, I dropped him on his bed and he smiled a tightlipped smile. “Thanks,” he muttered.

“You smell like alcohol,” I told him as I leaned over and rested my hands on my knees. That was a taxing adventure.

“You smell like coconuts,” he told me.

Blushing, I pointed to the door. “I’m going to go. You should get some rest. You’re going to regret drinking all of that in the morning.”

“I didn’t drink a lot. I had a shot or two of whisky, and three or four beers,” he told me. “I just can’t keep myself up.”

“Well, no offense, but you look like you need some sleep,” I replied as I started walking towards the door.

“Can I ask you a question?” he hastily asked before I could escape the awkward environment.

Slowly, I stopped walking and stood still, turning around nervously. “Uh, sure.”

“Were you serious? You know, about what you said?” he questioned.

About what I said- by that, does he mean my confession? “Yes.” He laughed quietly and I stared at him. “What?” I asked, prepared to be shot down. Crossing my arms, I glared at him. He sat on the bed with his legs dangling off, his elbows rested on his knees. His left hand limply held the beer bottle that he occasionally drank from.

“You can’t like me,” he muttered as he shook his head. Placing the beer bottle on the table beside his bed, he wiped his hands on his sweatpants. “You don’t know me.”

“I know what you allow me to know,” I responded. “And I like what I know.”

He shook his head silently and I just stared at him, taking in his bleak expression along with his glossy eyes. “Are you okay, Noah?” I asked as I stared at him. He laid down, putting his hands behind his head.