Slow Motion

Chapter 4: Drinks

He had spent the better part of the night searching for a distraction. He busied himself with the extravagant lights, the ostentatious ice sculptures, and the guests his record label had invited. He was expected to speak to them, and he did, but none really made an impression on him. Maybe they would have if his mind wasn't so preoccupied elsewhere.

The drinks came one after the other, and his eyesight had begun to blur. It was just another label party. It wasn't supposed to be a place he got drunk at, but he'd found himself drowning in alcohol to cope with the fact she was there. They had spent so much time together before in places not relating to his work. Finding that she'd somehow infiltrated what he had expected to be a mundane work requirement had knocked him off his usual confidence.

She was smiling, happy as she listened to the jokes of another artist that he briefly recalled meeting once before. It was only then that he realized her actual social status. Her entourage was made up of people in high places, some he even knew on a friendly level. He felt his heartbeat drum a little faster when she caught his eye and shot him a smile. He merely nodded in return before turning his attention back to the drink in his hand. He swirled it around mindlessly before throwing it back and swallowing it in one go.

It wasn't like he had intentionally ignored her for the past few weeks. He was a busy man, and working on another album was bound to take up his time. Sure, he may have sent a few of her calls to voicemail, and his replies to her texts had become very bland. He wasn't sure if it was his voice of reason or merely the alcohol speaking, but he realized how miserable he had made himself by depriving himself of her. She had been a spark in his heart for a minute, and he'd foolishly put it out.

He watched in silence as a blonde-haired man fawned over her. His arm wrapped around her constantly, and for a moment, he felt himself fill with jealousy. Weeks before it had been him who had her curled into his side, a good book in her hands as he watched the birds fly across the sky. It was something so purely innocent that it had tugged at his heartstrings and left him warmer than the sun. Now he stared as the blonde man wrapped an arm around her waist with a look of disdain on his face. She quickly released herself from his grip as she chose to wrap herself around the woman beside her. He couldn't help but smirk at the disappointed look that crossed the guy's face as he realized she kept pulling away from his affections.

Soon enough, he decided he'd done enough socializing. He pushed the empty glass towards the bartender, muttered a small thank you, and turned towards the exit- only to narrowly miss the body that had stepped in front of him.

"Leaving without saying hello?" she asked with an accusing tone. He looked down at her and fought the smile that threatened to spread on his lips. Multiple colors illuminated her face as the different shades of club lights flashed across her. God, she was gorgeous.

"Don't know what you're talking about, love," he replied with a small grin. "You've been quite busy all night."

"Don't act like you haven't been staring at me since the moment you walked in," she stared him straight in the eyes without fear, something that he found remarkably arousing. He cursed at himself internally for what he was sure were alcohol-fueled feelings. He was just used to people looking away, too shy to make eye contact. That was all. "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not."

"You are."

He frowned at her tone. He knew she was right, he had been avoiding her, and god's sake if he knew why now.

"Don't you have some millionaire friends waiting for you somewhere? Where's that bloke that's been following you around like a lost puppy? Should get back to him," Harry felt himself crossing lines, but the alcohol in his system made him feel brave. "Wouldn't want to upset your boyfriend, would you, peach?"

She chuckled and shook her head. He reeked of alcohol, and his eyes told her he was far gone. Her hand reached out to cup his cheek, a gesture that made his body still and his heart race.

"Is this you being jealous? It's adorable."

Harry's eyes narrowed at her response before he lifted a hand up to her face. He gently tapped her nose, leaving his finger against her skin. To onlookers, the interaction was one of tenderness, as both invaded each other's personal space in a familiar comfort. Only with a careful eye would one be able to notice the tension. " 'M not jealous." He took a step back and shrugged, "just think you can do better."

Her amusement was evident as she stared at him. Her eyes seemed to sparkle even more against the sequined dress she wore, and Harry fought the need to tell her how beautiful she looked right then. He stared back at her and felt his original hesitations melt away. With her right in front of him, he was more than sure that she was worth his time- even if his words said otherwise. "Well, nice seeing you. I've got to get home."

He stumbled over his platform shoes, and she laughed as she caught him. "Alright, Harry, let's get you home."

———-

"'Tis isn't my house," he slurred as he stumbled up a few stairs. He had spent the car ride on her shoulder, unsure of who was even driving but finding that he didn't really care. He had been too preoccupied with the way the streetlights danced off of her chandelier earrings, lighting up her face like stars.

"I know, it's mine," she laughed as punched in the code for the apartment building. She struggled to keep him upright as they made their way into the elevator before ultimately dumping him on the floor as lightly as she could. He smiled cheekily as he looked up at her from the elevator floor.

"You're so tall," he commented in amazement. She laughed even harder this time, shaking her head.

"You're just on the floor, babe."

Harry stared at her. She was unable to figure out what was going on inside his head at that moment. His face had turned serious, deep in thought.

"You okay, Harry?"

He blinked, and just like that, all seriousness had been replaced with a mischievous smile. Within an instant, he had run his hands along the elevator buttons. He cheered happily at the lights that had lit up like a Christmas tree.

"I'm never coming down!" He was in a fit of drunken giggles, and she felt more relieved than annoyed. They would be stopping at every floor before reaching her own, but she didn't mind the extra time with him.

"You're ridiculous," she smiled, her back leaning against the elevator wall as the doors repeatedly opened and closed on each floor. He extended his hand, a plea for help off the floor, and she took it. She lifted him with all her might, and he sprang up, crashing into her. His lips hovered over hers, and she could smell the whiskey on that lingered in his breath. He looked down at her, a flash of desire passing through his eyes before the sound of the elevator door opening caused them to pull away.

"We're here," she announced. Harry grinned and threw an arm around her shoulder.

"Lead the way M'Lady."

It turned out to be more of a struggle than she'd anticipated to get him into her apartment. He had begun to grow groggy, and sleep was at his edge, waiting to overtake him. With a heave, she threw him down onto her bed and watched as he happily curled up into her fluffiest pillow.

"Feels like a cloud," he mumbled with his eyes closed. She took the opportunity to take off his shoes and briefly wondered whether to take off his pants as well to give him more comfort.

"Harry, do you want to undress?" she asked.

"You've already got me in bed, love. Tryin' to see the goods now?" he grinned wildly although his eyes remained shut, and she laughed at how satisfied he looked at his own words.

"Aren't you clever," she smiled and pulled a blanket over him. "Goodnight, Harry."

He was already fast asleep.