WE'LL ALWAYS HAVE TONIGHT, logan huntzberger.

。ﾟ☆ 1. DRUNKEN LOVE

WE'LL ALWAYS HAVE TONIGHT.
VOLUME ONE: FROM AFAR.
CHAPTER ONE: DRUNKEN LOVE.

━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━

SLOANE DÖLET WAS ALWAYS ONE FOR FUN. The thought of not being completely and utterly infatuated with such things was adjacent to that of a nightmare. Not to mention, one would be absurdly forsaken in her friend group if they held such principals. In her very professional opinion, they were the very definition of fun.

That point could only further be proven as her head tilted backwards, the acerb liquid that was vodka paved its way down her throat, leaving only flames in its wake. Her eyes scrunched harshly for a fleeting moment before regaining their former crinkle. Beside her stood one of her best friends, Finn, in a state far more worse than her's. That's why she had asked him to tag along, after all.

          Clubbing was fun. But clubbing with Finn, that was like lighting a bed of flames and dancing in it. It was powerful, and it was thrilling.

          "More shots for my darling and I!" Finn demanded, his words heavily slurred as she directed the bartender who nodded in response.

          Sloane couldn't refrain the fit of giggles that fell from her lips. Drunk Sloane thought everything attractive, after all. "One last round then back to dancing as you promised!" she instructed, a lazy smile on her lips as she swayed absentmindedly.

          "I'm nothing if not a man of my word," Finn declared, his words almost incoherent due to his onerous accent entangled with his slurred speech.

          "That you are," she nodded in agreement, her attention shifting back to the bar as the bartender returned with a tray of shots per their request.

"You," Finn paused, pointing a finger towards the bartender as he scooped a glass into his hand, "are a lovely man!" he concluded.

Grasping one of the dozen shot glasses that sat atop the tray, she let another string of drunken giggles at her friend's declaration. "To..."

"Vodka!" he cheered, finishing her sentence and clinking his shot glass against hers.

One thing both drunken and sober Sloane could agree on, was no matter how many shots of vodka one had, the prominent embers that seared in its wake never dimmed nor ceased.

"Now we dance!" she giggled placing the glass back upon the tray.

"Nuh-uh, love, the whole tray first," Finn scolded as though she were a child, picking up another two glasses and handing one to her.

Four drinks and countless attempts of unsuccessful flirting from an abundance of boys, Sloane's bare-back was pressed against Finn's solid chest, his palms resting on the fabric of her black dress as they swayed to the music.

One would no doubt mistaken the duo as a couple. Sloane couldn't blame them, they certainly did look the part ( so much so that he often came in handy when boys she held no interest in attempted to flirt with her ). But in the end, they were nothing more than friends. It was their dynamic. Sloane and Finn. Finn and Sloane.

The song abruptly pulled to a halt, a faster-paced one replacing the former pour of music. Pulling away from Finn, she slowly turned to face him, a Cheshire-like grin pulling upon her red-painted lips. "Surely you've got more moves," she chimed, her body beginning to sway with the new pace.

"Oh, you've seen nothing yet," he murmured, leaning down to aid his word's journey to her ears through the blaring music of the club.

She couldn't help but laugh as Finn began to obnoxiously sway his body in the minimal space he occupied between the masses of drunken people. He always knew how to make her laugh━ so what if she was easier to amuse when intoxicated? She was sure she'd find it utterly amusing if she were sober, as well.