twilight and all things associated with it aren't mine. this isn't beta'd, this is just for fun.
"I don't think I've ever been so drunk," he laughed. "Have you ever been this wasted?"
"Mmm," she groaned, opening her eyes. "Where are we?"
"At my place, silly girl."
"Do you remember how we got here?"
He laughed. "Whoa. You must be super drunk. Jessica drove us home. I think you dozed a bit."
"Ugh, I hate her."
"Really? Why?" he asked, laughing again. Everything is apparently hilarious at the moment.
"She is so skanky. She's always all over every single guy around. And you know, it's like 'damn girl, calm down,'" she huffed. "Plus, she's never just nice. I hate that."
"Is she mean to you?"
"Yes, well—not always mean, exactly. But rude or catty. Vaguely hateful, insinuating and tacky," she explained.
"Oh. Well, I didn't know that she was like that to you," he mumbled. "Maybe I'll stay away from her more now."
"Don't. You don't need to stay away from her because of me. Hang out with whoever, whomever you please."
"Whoa, whoa. You must be plastered, you don't know whether to use whoever or whomever," he said, giggling. "But I really don't want to hang out with her if she's rude to you. I know how nice you try to be, even to people that definitely don't deserve it. Like Mike."
"What—"she paused, closing her eyes. "do you mean, 'like Mike?'"
"Mike Newton? Colossal doucheface?"
At this, she cackled loudly, which made him grin while it caused her stomach to roll. "Stop or I'll hurl. Why is he a doucheface?"
"Bella, he is disgusting. Every time I see him near you I want to punch him in that douchey face of his."
She giggled and rolled to face him. "He's nice. I mean, cheesy-but nice."
"No. He's a jerk-off."
"You should explain why. But tomorrow, because I'd never remember if you told me now."
"Okay, pretty girl."
She snorted. "Did you just call me 'pretty girl'?"
"Don't laugh, Bella. You're so pretty. Why don't you know that?"
"How much did you drink?"
"More than anyone should, but it's true. Pretty hair, pretty eyes, pretty legs, pretty lips." He grabbed a lock of her hair and curled it around his finger.
"You're being weird."
"Ugh, Bella. No. You're weird for being one of those girls." He sounded exasperated.
"One of what girls?" she demanded.
"Girls who refuse to admit they're pretty."
"I don't think I'm ugly. I'm okay. But you never seemed to think much of it before," she mused. As well as she could muse with all the alcohol in her, anyway.
He leaned up on his arm to look down at her. "I've always thought you were pretty."
They both felt something. Maybe the air sizzled with chemistry sparking between them. But probably not. He grinned like a silly boy and pecked her cheek, smooshing it.
"Let's go to sleep," he whispered.
"I'll try. I'll probably have to go familiarize myself with your toilet."
"So classy."
"Shove it, Cullen. It's your fault that I'm so wretched right now."
"Girl, you love tequila."
"I do, but it makes me so ill."
"Never again?" he asked as he felt himself start to slip into sleep.
"Meh, at least not until next week," she qualified.
more to come in a few days. thanks for stopping by. stay classy.