𝚁𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝙸𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜

Just a drink

It was like any other night after a show. The boys would find a girl to shag and head back to the hotel. However, Keith wasn't feeling it that night. He had just gotten through a rough break up and, well, needed a drink.

As the other boys headed for their room, a pretty girl hanging off of them, Keith went for the hotel bar;

"Whiskey" he said.

"Alright sir, I'll have that out to you in a pinch" you replied.

Keith's brown eyes flickered up to your face after he paid. He gave you a look of confusion.

"American huh?" He questioned.

"Born and raised"

He smiled, watching you fetch his drink.

By one am, Keith was on his fourth round of whiskey. At this point he was whining about how bad the break up was and how good you were at making drinks. He was slurring his words. You just listened to him, while making drinks.

"Y'know, you're quite pretty" he slurred, licking his teeth.

"Sir... you're drunk. Would you like me to get you escorted to your room?"

"Why don't you take me?"

"That's not professional, sir"

"Please"

"No"

"Pwetty pwease" he slurred.

"Fine but don't try anything" you finally gave in.

There you were, a sloppy stone on your shoulder, cooing sweet nothings into your ear as you laughed. It was truly something.

His directions led you to the fourth floor. A few blondes were waiting outside when you got there.

"Here you are, sir" you smiled, picking him off of you.

"Thanks" he stopped to read your tag "y/n"

You nodded, waving.