After only a few hours of partying and drinking, I felt sick. I breathed heavily, had a weird taste in my mouth, and my throat was burning. I was going to be sick. I spurted outside and threw up all over the threshold. I felt a warm, comforting hand on my shoulder while I was vomiting. Once all the alcohol had officially left my body I looked up to see who had been comforting me. I saw a rather lanky figure standing next to me but I couldn't see clearly, my eyes were watery and my vision was fogged up. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. It was a young man with light brown, shoulder length hair. He was wearing a black shirt, a denim jacket and flared trousers. He looked at me reassuringly with his greyish eyes. His hand was still on my shoulder, making sure I was fine. "Are you okay?" he asked me. I shook my head. "I need to sit down" I mumbled. I felt my legs wobbling and dropped to the floor with a thud. I couldn't stand up properly. "Oh god... There there- I've got you" he murmured while trying to pull me to my feet. Although I still couldn't stand. I was so drunk. I threw my arms around his neck to keep myself from falling again. "Can't... St- stand" I managed to say. He put his arm around my waist and carefully lifted me up. He brought me to the nearest bench and I sat down. "T-thank... Uh... Y-you" I shuddered. I was so cold. I was shivering. He sat down next to me and took off his jacket. He gently put it over my shoulders. "Why... are y- you so kah- uh kind?" I muttered. "You're drunk. Its only my duty to make sure you're safe." he replied. Not really knowing what I was doing at the time, I said "I like you... You are s- sweet" shivering. He laughed and I scooted closer to him.
John's POV:
I left the club, it was way to loud and it was full of drunk people shouting loudly and to be honest that was not my favorite type of company. I sat down on a bench and sighed. 'John... You're such a sociopath' I thought to myself. Why was it so hard for me to just enjoy a party like a normal human being? I'm such a loser... I jumped at the sound of a door slamming open. A girl ran out of the pub, breathing heavily. I ran over to her, she looked like she was wrecked. She started throwing up. Yep, she was absolutely wrecked. I reassured her by placing my hand on her shoulder. It was hard to watch someone in pain like that. Then, she looked at me. Although she was drunk and just threw up for about 5 minutes straight, I thought she looked quite pretty. Really pretty actually. "Are you okay?" i asked. She just mumbled something, I couldn't understand what she was saying. Probably because she was drunk. Suddenly she just fell, she couldnt keep her balance. "Oh god... There there I've got you" I told her, taking her hands and gently pulling her to her feet again. But her knees were wobbling. She threw her arms around my neck to keep herself up. "C- can't stand..." she whispered. God, I had to stay with her, she simply wasn't capable of taking care of herself at that moment. I gently wrapped my arm around her waist and carefully carried her to the bench, where I was sat earlier. She thanked me. She started shivering. Immediately I took off my jacket and put it around her shoulders, making sure her body temperature would go up a bit. She smiled at me. It was a drunk smile, but still, a pretty smile. "Why are y- you so k- kind" the girl stammered. I giggled. "You're drunk. It's only my duty to make sure you're safe." the girl answered confidently: "I like you. You're s- sweet" I laughed. Then the girl scooted closer to me. Her hands got closer to my face and she started playing with my hair. She twirled locks around her finger and gently stroked the strands. "I love your hair. It's so cool" she said, obviously not knowing what she was talking about. My hair was a right mess. It was not even close to "cool" I was chuckling. "I like your hair too" She gave me a toothy grin. "What's your n- name anyway?" she asked me. "It's John. John Deacon" She looked me in the eyes. "I'm Stacy, but call me Stace. Anyway, ur... John Deacon, will I ever see you again?" she said, gently trailing her pointer finger up and down my chest. "I'm positive you will. I only hope next time we might see each other, it wouldn't be because you drank too much" I joked. "Well, John Deacon... I hope so too, and thank you for t- taking such good c- care of m- me" she replied, in between several hiccups. She kissed me on the cheek. My cheeks flushed bright red. But it didn't stop there. She grabbed my cheek and slightly cupped her hands around it. She turned my head gently and in one smooth movement so that I was directly facing the girl. She caressed my cheek and kissed it again multiple times. My face was burning at this point. She got closer and closer and I started to lightly feel her calm breathing. We stared each other in the eyes for a good 30 seconds. I got lost in them it was as if I was drowning in pools of golden honey. My thoughts got cut off by her lips pressing against mine. She deepened the kiss, intertwining my fingers with hers and playing with my hair with her other hand.
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When we broke apart, she giggled and as if nothing had happened, she just stood up again and skipped to the entrance of the club. She was still wearing my jacket, but I was fine with it, I wanted her to remember me. I released the breath I didn't even know I was holding. "Briaaaaaaaaaan! I'm drunk again! We need to go ho- hooome!" she sang while hiccuping once more. Brian? I thought to myself. Would she have a boyfriend? I shook my head. If course she'd have a boyfriend. Pretty girls like her always do. 'No chance with her, Deacon, no chance', a voice sounded in my head.
It was a strange experience, meeting Stacy. But secretly, I really wish we would meet again.
