Sophie wasn't the type of girl to go out every night. Every once in a while, though, she would go to the local bar to have one or two drinks, chatter away with other customers, and then return to her normal life. Tonight wasn't one of those nights.
"Another one, miss?" the bartender asked cautiously, obviously not approving of the amount of alcohol Sophie had already consumed that night.
"Yes, please!" she called loudly, even though she was right in front of him. "So I – " she continued, turning back to the older man next to her, "I told him to – to get lost, to find a new tool to play with!" She was slurring, she knew it, but she couldn't care less.
The man looked at her with apprehension. "I'm sorry to hear that miss. But I should – really go now. You'll be fine." With that, he got up and made his way out.
"Yes, I will!" Sophie yelled after him, waving with one hand, with the other grabbing her glass from the bar. As she drank, she nearly fell off the stool. "Woops," she giggled, as two hands grabbed hold of her, stabilising her and putting her back on the stool.
"Woops indeed," the person attached to the hands said. Sophie looked up at her saviour. "Mind if I sit?" he asked, and she shook her head. He was… intriguing. Dark hair, dark eyes, rather tall. There was something mysterious about this man, she could even see that with all the alcohol she had had tonight. Maybe she noticed it extra well because of the alcohol. "So what brings a lovely young lady like yourself in such a shady pub?" the man asked conversationally.
Sophie giggled again. Even in her drunk state, she realised that he was just hitting on her, which was probably custom for him. "Well," she said, stretching the word as long as she could, "I fancied a drink. You?"
The man chuckled. "Yes, I can see that." He nodded at the few empty glasses in front of her.
"Oh, that's nothing," Sophie said dismissively. "I've had waaaaay more than that."
"I already hoped you'd say that," the man joked, and then he turned to the bartender. "Can I have what she's got? Oh," he continued, as Sophie rapidly finished her drink, "and give her a refill."
Together, Sophie and the stranger (of whom she didn't even bother to ask the name), had some more drinks, while talking about things such as the weather, Sophie's bastard of an ex-boyfriend, and many other topics that didn't make any sense whatsoever.
By the time the bartender announced that the bar was going to close, the two of them were the only customers left. The mystery man offered to walk Sophie home, and although she knew better than to accept offers like that from strangers like him, she accepted it. He had kept her company the entire night, even during her one hour long tirade directed at her ex, so that had to count for something, right?
When they arrived at her apartment, the man grabbed both of her hands, kissed her swiftly, bade her a good night and walked away, leaving Sophie behind more troubled than she had been when she had left home earlier that night. Ignoring the odd feelings in her stomach, she slipped inside and into her bed.
When she woke up the day after, her head was aching tremendously. After kicking herself out of bed and taking a bunch of aspirins, she went back into the bedroom to make her bed, but was caught of guard when she saw a small piece of paper lying next to the bed. How it had gotten there, she had no idea. There was nothing on it, except a name and a telephone number. Now the only thing Sophie needed to do, was figure out whether or not she wanted to meet up again with yesterday night's handsome stranger (Sirius Black, according to the note). Deciding that he seemed definitely decent (after all, he hadn't taken advantage of her in any way, as far as she could remember), and that she needed to figure out what those feelings she had had the night before meant, she called him.
By the sound of it, she had woken him up, but he sounded happy nevertheless. They agreed to have lunch the day after, because Sirius 'wouldn't be caught dead in that bar again'. Though Sophie was mildly offended (it was her favourite bar, after all), she was glad that she had called him. The odd feelings she had had the night before when thinking of him were gone. She didn't feel anything whatsoever now, which she thought was kind of strange. She just knew that they had had a good time, but it didn't give her goose bumps now.
The lunch was, there was no other word for it, awkward. And not just a little bit. It was ridiculously, immensely, stupendously awkward. So much for a good idea.
The fluttering feeling in her stomach hadn't returned either, but Sophie was quite happy for that. Her previous relationship had ended only two days before, so she didn't want to be falling for someone again so soon.
It seemed that he had trouble speaking to her while sober, just like she didn't know how to talk to him now.
"So," he said after they both had finished, "do you want to go for a drink, maybe?"
"Now?" Sophie asked incredulously. "It's one in the afternoon!"
"Oh, right," he said sheepishly. "Some other time, then?"
Sophie thought for a couple of seconds. She didn't know whether she wanted to experience those weird feelings again, but apart from those, it had been fun two nights ago. "Yeah, sure," she answered, smiling. "When would be a good time?"
"When wouldn't it be?" he asked like the charmer he was. And like she knew she was almost supposed to, Sophie blushed.
"Tomorrow?" she offered.
"Tomorrow it is, then," he said. "I assume you'll want to go back to that bar again?" Sophie nodded, and he sighed dramatically. "Well, then, I'll see you there."
With that, he left, and Sophie followed him out. He was nowhere to be seen. Odd. As she made her way home, she tried to make sense of her thoughts and feelings. Yes, he had been incredibly nice and funny two nights ago, a real gentleman, even though he (and Sophie herself) had been drinking a lot then. When it came to his looks, Sophie was even attracted to him without any alcohol in her body. But still. Today hadn't exactly been the best lunch 'date' she had ever been on. He had said next to nothing, letting her carry the conversation. And he hadn't seemed very interested in what she had to say.
Knowing that she would probably change her mind again, Sophie decided then and there that tomorrow night would be their last 'date'. It wasn't a very positive thing that he only seemed decent after he had been drinking…
It surprised Sophie that Sirius was already there, waiting for her, when she arrived at the bar the night after. As she had already expected (and dreaded), Sirius' more flirty side emerged after only a small amount of beers, wine and whatever else they could get their hands on, and she was feeling giddy again. In a fan girly kind of way. That wasn't good. The alcohol was seriously damaging; not just her brain cells and her liver, but her entire body seemed to suffer from it.
They talked and flirted and chatted and laughed the hours away and the bartender, who surely remembered them, now happily filled up their glasses whenever they asked. It was only good for his business, after all. Sophie soon felt herself slowly losing control once more and that was exactly what she didn't want. Again, the fact that they could only laugh and talk and all those other things they were doing (she didn't know what half the time) while they were both drunk didn't make her feel very comfortable, she knew that much. The odd feeling in her stomach was back as if it had never been gone. Wonderful.
In the end, she managed to get away for a moment. She splashed some water in her face, as to wake herself up. This had to stop. She couldn't just get drunk with every good looking fellow she met at the local bar! Who knew what would happen!
When she came back from her trip to the loo, she immediately spotted her seat having been taken by a blonde with heels that were too high and a skirt that was too short, and Sirius didn't seem to mind at all. Or he was too drunk to even see the difference between Sophie and this blonde. So, this was it, then. Sure, Sirius had been a nice companion earlier, but he had probably hoped for something more, something Sophie had, obviously, not been willing to give, even though he could've easily taken his chance when she had been so wasted.
As she walked out of the bar, she didn't look back once. He was just an asshole anyway.
A/N: So, what do you think? Let me know, please review!
Disclaimer: No, I don't own the world of Harry Potter. The title, last line and general inspiration are drawn from Miss Montreal's Just a flirt. I don't own that either.