I'm sorry, but this a really short one- I have a butt-load of tests to study for :P But I'll put ch4 up too ;)
"Hey" Harriet slurred as she leaned in "look at that hot guy." She was definitely tipsy. Emma swiveled her gaze around the crowded club until they landed on the guy Harriet was talking about.
He was about a few inches taller than her with dark blonde hair that was spiked up in the front. He had a worn face and deep green eyes that had seen too much. The sight of his hunched shoulders yanked on her heartstrings. He was attractive, but the way she was drawn to him wasn't like that. She felt an uncontrollable desire to take the load off his shoulders and help him. She desperately wanted him to give her that crooked smirk she knew he had. He seemed so familiar…
"How do I looook?" Harriet drunkenly asked. She was 'fixing' her hair with shaking hands. It had the opposite effect. Without looking, Emma reached over and smoothed out the strands that were sticking up like a bird's plume. What are best friends for?
"I think we should call it quits, you're trashed." Emma had had just the same amount of beer, not to mention a few shots of tequila, but she still felt fine.
"Come on Em, don't be a sssspoil ssssport!" After a hard look, "Fine, but I want hisss number firssst." She slurred the 's' in her sentences like a serpent.
"Alright, but I'm coming with you. We have finals soon and I don't want you being whisked away and used shamelessly." Harriet nodded, but she was mainly focused on getting off her stool and stumble her way towards her prey. Emma couldn't help but smile at her best friend's antics. She followed along behind her wobbling companion, ready to catch her if she ever tripped- which was quite likely since she was incredibly drunk. How did she even get this drunk this fast? Was that even possible? All her musings vanished when finally reached the guy; Emma got to see his full-on.
White noise filled her ears, louder than a hornet's nest. Their lips moved, but the static in her mind overpowered any other sound. His face; she knew his face. Her head pounded, they were saying something, but she didn't move; her feet were glued in place to the floor, her face slack in shock. How did she know him?
Don't worry, I'll crank out a few more soon! (and beef this little sucker up)
