Tokyo Drift || HS

17 || The Night Out (Part 2)

AN UNEASY EDGE HOVERS over me the rest of the night, like a storm that's about to break.

"Huh," I fixate back on Peter who stands in front of me with a look of concern. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said are you alright?" The apprehension breaks through his voice. The circle of people around us seem to fade into the distance while their conversation continues on without a pause. "You seem worried."

"Oh no – I'm fine, really." I attempt to ease his suspicion, but know that I fail to do a good job.

After talking with more people on the patio for a few hours, Peter leads me back to Jalen. We find him loudly recounting some story. The group that surrounds him laughs along with his perfectly timed words. I can tell he's a bit more than tipsy.

It's now well into the night and the sky has transformed to a deep black. The drinks flow freely throughout the building. I watch as all the wealthy individuals slowly become more and more ridiculous and loose.

"Do you want another drink?" Peter inclines his head down to the empty glass in my hand.

I've only had two the whole night and have no desire for another.

"No thanks," I smile kindly. "I'm good."

The cold air from the open patio blows around my legs, creating a frozen chill that sneaks up my spine. I contemplate just going home. Although I want to spend time with my friends, I can't help but feel that my mood is unrecoverable.

A buzz goes off against my hip. I reach down into my bag and stare at the notification on the screen.

A bizarre sense of relief floods my veins.

H: Where are you?

He begins to type again before I can answer.

H: Come here.

H: I'm tired.

H: I don't want to be alone. 

His texts seem strange – like he's shooting them off in rapid fire. The thoughts from his head just stumbling out through his fingers.

I instantly respond.

Me: I'm at the party. Harry, are you drunk?

My brows furrow at his erratic behavior.

H: Maybe.

H: I don't know

H: Come here.

I've never seen him drunk.

Even when we were drinking together at his house with Mitch, we were both just slightly buzzed. Not full-on wasted.

The thought of him alone worries me.

Me: Where are you?

H: At the apartment.

H: Are you coming?

I let out a sigh while running my hand through my hair.

Me: Yea, I'll be over soon.

The same expression of unease covers Peter's face as he watches me.

"Is everything alright?" His eyes scan me, lines of worry etch across his forehead.