Sliced Trees and Dead Words

12 - And all previous fluster evaporated instantaneously.

- LUNA -

A full six-pack to myself, and I am certifiably buzzed. Add into that that I only ate one slice of pizza because fuck Wolfe, and my head's lolling a little on my neck as I sit and I may even be swaying a few degrees off balance on my feet whenever I get up to get another drink. Siella is only a couple behind me, but she also guzzled down half a pizza without the prideful restrictions I had, so is handling the alcohol content a bit better than I am.

Wolfe, however, stuck to the one cider Siella handed him, and has soaked that up with a full large pizza, and a couple slices of my truffle Margherita. I considered throwing the glass bottle at him when his scarred hand picked up the first slice, and then again when his perfectly straight teeth bit into the greasy end, but I figured my aim would be dreadful and I'd end up hitting Medusa the Traitor who is sitting in his lap, or my own sister, also not far off being considered another Traitor in my mind as she lounges in cozy next to him on my couch.

"We should go out. Dance. Try to just forget about things for the night," Siella suggested loudly, sitting upright and receiving the most revolted look from Wolfe beside her. His expression made me spit some of my drink from my mouth, all over my top and down into my bra; but it was so worth it just seeing how opposed he was to the idea, as well as the mental image of Wolfe dancing in a club, his toned arms waving around and wide waist moving rhythmically, I assume, in an uncoordinated mess. A hot, uncoordinated mess.

But fuck Wolfe.

I thought about Siella's suggestion for a few seconds before my drunkenness decided it actually was a good idea to go out and drink and dance my sorrows away. I've been crying and moping since I found out about Dalen, and sitting here with Wolfe regaling Siella with happy stories about him isn't making me feel any better about the fact he's gone. She's thankfully been asking him all the questions I want answers to but don't like him enough to ask myself, so I'm putting this down to either how well she knows me or some inexplicable twin telepathy thing.

"Sure. Why not?" I said, jumping to my feet a little too eagerly for my inhibited centre of gravity to handle and swaying violently, and was stopped from planting my head into the corner of the coffee table by two large hands that immediately found their way to my waist to stabilise and keep me upright. I looked down at Wolfe awkwardly half-sitting, half-standing on the edge of my couch with his eyes trained straight ahead, which just so happens to be eye-level with my breasts considering he's rather tall next to my fairly average height when not given the extra boost by my heels, which I had kicked off before when settling in on the couch.

His rich golden eyes are not looking away, even with me glaring down my nose at him; nor are his hands removing themselves from my body, which is now on fire underneath him.

I wriggled myself out of his grip, which of course meant my breasts followed suit and bounced away in front of him while he continued staring, and the sharp inhale accompanying the blaze in his eyes—which finally crept upwards to look at my displeased face—suggested he enjoyed it.

If he wasn't an ass who'd been teasing me and transforming my life into a living hell since I first knew of his very existence, I'd contemplate it. But he is an ass, and he has been both the bearer of bad news and my personal tormentor, so no.

"Just give me five minutes to get changed and we can go," I said to Siella, walking away from a blushing Wolfe, most definitely aware he was caught staring where he shouldn't have been.

Once in my room, I changed from the black jeans and t-shirt I had been wearing and into an olive pencil dress and colour matching ankle boots. I quickly swept some gold eyeshadow over my eyelids, adding some deep brown for a smoky effect, black liner and mascara, and some quick highlights and bronzer. Finishing with my signature espresso brown matte lipstick and taking the elastic out of my hair to let the dark waves flow, I looked in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised at how put together I looked in such a short time, especially after how much I'd drunk already. Then again, I've had a lot of practice while sober, never leaving my house without at least eyeliner and mascara in years.