Enemy 000

9 Bold

I know how crazy parties would get. I enjoy the feeling of drama and tensions in the air. It was mostly amusing to me for the solemn reason of me not having any drama in my own life. My life was simple, apart from any family problems which I tend to keep private. However, I am not the one to push on certain topics on order to provoke drama, I only pay attention to everything that's going on around me.

I place another ice cube in my glass, hoping to cool myself down. It's extremely hot today and having a ton of people in your apartment doesn't help much.

"I don't have the nerves anymore. I really don't. How do you expect me to go through that while being fine? I told you, I do not approve!"

Hearing Jessica's voice break at the end makes my heart break as well.

"Do you remember what you told me? You said you'll be with me no matter what. So what's this now?"

"Mel, come on! You're bringing me into something I never agreed to. I am with you through this, but I do not want to get involved."

"Hey, hey, hey. Jess, come on, Sarah's looking for you." I recognize Wes's voice and a small silence appears before he speaks again. "Give her some time. She'll get over it."

I hear Mel mumble something that sounds like alright before there are no more voices behind me. I guess they've dispersed and went different ways.

"You're eavesdropping, huh?"

I literally jump and small droplets from my glass end up on my shirt. I stubbornly place the glass back on the counter and fetch a napkin.

"No. I wasn't." I reply while trying to remove the tiny stain from the fabric.

"Sure, yeah." Wes says, grabbing a cup for himself. The amount of liquor he pours into it is the amount I would probably drink for three whole days.

"What's the deal anyway?" I ask and he just smirks at me, seeing as I just confirmed his theory of eavesdropping. I roll my eyes at him and give up on the napkin and the stain, because it clearly won't go away.

"It's none of your business, babe." He says and takes a sip. He doesn't even look fazed by how strong that drink probably is. I think he poured some kind of whiskey or something. I turn my entire body to face him, grabbing my own drink as well.

"Stop calling me that." I tell him and he cocks an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"Because." I answer, hoping I don't get irritated so my drink doesn't end up in his face, because at the moment, I have the urge to do that. "You don't have the right to."

"Oh, and who does?" He forms a small smile, his eyes travelling up and down my body. And I do notice how sparkly they are, meaning the drink he's holding is definitely not his first one.

"Currently, nobody." I say, almost with pride.

"That's good." He mutters silently and brings the cup to his lips. He quickly downs the drink and tilts his head back to gulp down the remains. His neck tattoo shows from the neckline of his shirt when he extends his neck.

"It needs fixing." I lift my hand and trace the small word pure. He visibly flinches when my fingers meet his skin, and after a second he grabs my wrist and pulls me in front of him.

He smirks at me and turns my wrist, where my own tattoo is placed. It washed away, but you can still decipher what it says, blue written in cursive.

"Yours too." He looks down at it and runs his finger over the ink. I try not to let my heart beat, but it does anyway, bringing even more heat to my body.