i know you don't care about me.
i'm sure when all is said and done
and i go home, feeling lonely,
you will have had your fun.
do you even remember?
.
(drunk girl - something corporate)
.
.
.
.
[LIFELINES]
chapter nine: i kissed a drunk girl
.
.
Finding the door unlocked, I walk in.
It doesn't take me all that long to locate him. He's laying on the dirty sofa, shirt half off as he watches a documentary about Jupiter's satellites while smoking a cigarette. My mood dwindles the longer I absorb my surroundings. The sofa has an abundant amount of cigarette burns, that it may as well look like the pattern of the cotton, soft-furnished design. Stale smoke swarms the dry air, mixed with sweat, body odour, and a pungent scent of marijuana.
He's either mixing his drugs up, his 'other' friends are using his place to get high or perhaps the combination of both. Who knows?
He looks slightly lucid in contrast to the last time I'd laid eyes on him. I mean, if he's watching a documentary, this does resemble a bit of his old self. He had always been a closet nerd. If he hadn't been a guitarist, my bet would have been he would have become some type of scientist. Regardless of it all, Takashi may not be as focused, but he's there. Somewhere.
"Hey Takashi."
I sit next to him. He stinks. I can only imagine the last time he's showered. He eyes me, distracted from the television for a second. "Yamato-kun?"
Yes, it's one of his better days.
Abruptly, I reach for the remote control and I turn off the monitor. Takashi frowns but doesn't fight me for the remote to turn the television back on. His bottom lip is protruding out in protest, facial expression flickering in anger at my intrusion, but he doesn't yet ask me why I'm here.
My voice is dry, but I speak anyway, "You didn't make it to the guitar session today."
Disgruntledly, he replies to me, "I was tired. I went to last week's one."
"No," I deny. I fold my arms. "You went to it three weeks ago."
"Oh."
No apology. My manager would be upset, but I can't bring myself to yell or scold Takashi. I've already tried that before, and it had made things worse. He'd either retaliate, or flee. And, nothing's worse than throwing a search party for him because Takashi knows how to disappear when he does not want to be found.
What's ironic is that despite the shit he's been getting himself into, he still can produce a good, decent tune. High or sober - Takashi is a guitar legend. He always will be. I owe him because it is who had made me realise my love for music.
If you see Takashi play live, you'd understand. His fingers are quick, gliding through the strings in a an effortless manner. He can change the atmosphere in the room from producing a few chords, or even improvising a song to form a perfect melody. One afternoon, I had lingered back in school for detention that I had earned from fighting with Taichi (which was a frequent happening that the teachers loathed us for). I had to sit out the detention alone because Taichi's detention was scheduled for following day because he had soccer practice that evening. Considering I was alone, I had strolled down the empty corridors, and it was when I heard Takashi's distinct guitar playing, I found my feet entering the music room, gawking at my senpai's talented low-key performance. The rest is history from there.
And now, to think that my role model would turn out like this...Takashi really is the shadow of who he used to be. He's almost skeletal. Eyes drained, cheeks sunken. If he isn't addict, his skin would be more brighter, laughter more contagious and smile more vivid. I still hope; I still wish that he can change back into the person he was. It's disturbing seeing him like this.
I may appear irritable and moody to some people, but Takeru tells me that it's my front. Takeru says I tend to always look for the good in everybody; even when I know what they are doing is wrong. I don't know if he likes to say shit like this because it's in character to piss people off, or because I'm - unfortunately - his brother, though in some sense I'd have to agree with him. Perhaps it is really my flaw that I care, that I want to see my close friends through rose-coloured glasses. What I really want is the positive outcome, the chance to hope, to believe that people can improve, make up for their mistakes and get better.
"Would you think about it, Taka senpai?" I ask him.
"About what, Yamato-kun?" His voice is lilty, like he is unsure whether we're in reality or in a dream.
Great. I'm losing him again. I wonder that if we had stepped in earlier, would he have been better? Why had we all been too focused in ourselves, to not notice how badly our guitarist was slipping? We would have never guessed how bad Takashi was addicted due to his fool-proof acting skills. It's only in the recent years and right before the band separated, that we noted how bad Takashi's addiction truly was. If Takeru thought I had good front, Takashi had a damn fort.
I clear my throat, attempting to keep the conversation going. "Rehab."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine," I persist. I take steady breaths, trying my hardest to keep my cool and not snap at him.
Takashi replies, "I don't need rehab."
"Could you at least try it?" I murmur. "You know you're not well."
He snorts at me. "And how about you?"
"What?" I'm taken aback by his words.
Takashi prods, "When's the last time you spoke to Makoto sensei?"
I hadn't planned to be confronted instead. By putting the attention on somebody else, he can take talking about himself out of the equation. It's just like Takashi to turn the situation back on me because it's one of the things he likes to do. Although Takashi is in a worse situation that I am, he knows how to put the focus back on me.
"I don't need to speak to him. If anything, it's you who needs him more than I do." I reply, pinching the bridge between my nose. "Come on, Takashi. You know I'm not here to talk about myself."
"Why? You know that you're not well either, Yamato-kun."
Yes, he really knows how to press my buttons. He sees through my lies. He sees that I'm a hypocrite too, that I am putting up an act - an act from myself. I plough on, "You need help."
He glares. "I don't need it."
I sigh; I can't stand this. How much longer are we going to keep arguing? How much longer can I keep covering for Takashi?
Takashi spits out, "I didn't ask you to help me. I don't need to be saved by you. I don't want anything-"
I fume, "Then what do you want? Do you want to waste away? Is that what you want? Huh?"
He takes a low stab to spite me. "Would you have preferred if Kaori was alive instead of me?"
A sting of coldness saturates me. We don't talk about this - I don't talk about this. And whenever somebody tries to get me bring her up, my temper flares or I close up. I'm unimpressed that he's stooped this low by bringing her up to prove a point.
"You're being stupid," I mumble.
He presses on, "Kaori right? You'd pick her."
"You're both important to me," I scowl. I get up and I pull out the crumbled rehab pamphlets, dropping it onto the sofa besides him. "Read it."
I leave, not knowing what else to say.
.
.
"Alright, baby boy, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Akira's demands.
I sit up straight, taking my hands away from supporting my head on the table. We're at Jun's place, all sitting around the dining table like we've all presented ourselves to a business meeting. Jun's girlfriend and all the members, including our manager, has made an effort to attend this meeting and enduring this whole ordeal is a painful situation. I feel like I'm being restrained against my own will. I don't want to be here.
"Yamat, you've been tense ever since you walked in." Satou has noticed. I'm not surprised he has.
My whole body feels rigid and tight. I feel like screaming, like hitting something. My old therapist had once mentioned that I take boxing classes to manage my anger because I seemingly bottle a lot of my feelings (yes, like I need to be told this when I already know it), and right now I regret not buying myself a boxing bag. Therapist, huh? I snort to myself when I remember Takashi's words, 'When's the last time you spoke to Makoto sensei?'
Damn this.
I swig some beer down. "I'm good."
"Right," Jun rolls her eyes.
It's her fault that we're all here. She's made us attend this pointless meeting about Takashi. She's told Satou regardless of how I was against it. And now Satou is stressed out as he hadn't been aware how bad Takashi's addiction was. He had begun rambling about taking Takashi out of the Wired Tours and wanting to stop his activities with the rookie in-training bands. Hearing this had irritated me more because I know that music is probably the only sane thing in Takashi's life right now. If we were to take music away from him, what will Takashi have left? How will he function? I'm just thankful Jun hasn't spilled the beans to Seiji-san. If Seiji-san were to find out, we'd all be punished for hiding it from him. The president had learnt how to discipline his employees after getting first-hand experience from raising KOD.
"It would help if you provided some input, Yamato-san." It's Jun's girlfriend - Rose - who speaks up. She's spoken because despite me being irrirated, she knows that I won't yell at her compared to the rest of the people in the room, whom I am closer to. "You don't seem convinced about Takashi-san going to rehab."
Ah, Jun's wise bringing her girlfriend. All of us would have denied Rose permission to be here, but considering Rose works as a receptionist at the local rehab centre and because we trust Jun, Yutaka mentioned that she was a valuable source. However, right now all I want for her is to leave.
"I think this is a waste of time," I voice out. "How can we help Takashi when he does not want to change?"
"There are other options. We could call in services."
"For them to give him a few counselling sessions and throw him out onto the street again?" I hiss. I can't calm down anymore. Even if she's Jun's partner, I'm angry and frustrated. What right does she have to say this? She doesn't even know Takashi!
Rose frowns. "I never said that."
"What are we meant to do? Drag him into a clinic unwillingly-"
Jun cuts in, "Stop being an asshole, Yamato."
"That's right. Don't speak to her that way." Ah, fucking Saint Satou to the rescue. My manager for you, people.
Akira sniggers. "For once I'm not getting scolded."
"Shut up." Yutaka doesn't let the drummer get away with it.
Wow. This meeting really is turning into such a success.
"If we're done here, we should go." I want to get out of here as soon as possible. What's the point of being here if nothing good will come out of it? What other options do we have when it's Takashi who doesn't want to fix himself? Just how are we meant to help?
"You seemed keen about this plan of attack before," Yutaka says, thoughtfully. "What makes you want to abandon ship all of a sudden?"
Bloody Yutaka. He can always read between the lines. It's his natural talent. Perhaps it's because he's a pianist, a perfectionist who doesn't miss a single beat - or in his case, a single note.
"I spoke to him before I got here, guys," I reveal. "That's why I was late. I was hoping I could bring him here so we could all talk to him. My words obviously didn't convince him. Takashi has made it clear to me that he doesn't want to change. And when he brought up Kaori, I lost it. He was being infuriating, comparing himself to her. It's almost like he wants to die. I just want him back, you know? Fucking hell..."
I close my eyes. Even beer won't soothe me now. I can feel all their eyes resting on me. Akira places a hand on my shoulder and I shrug him off. Dickhead. I know he's just doing it to piss me off by angering me out of my shit enough mood.
I glare at him and he smirks. "At least you tried, baby boy."
"Fuck off," I snarl.
Yutaka pounds Akira on the head for me.
"It's not only on your shoulders, Yamato. We'll all work together to get him back on the right tracks," Jun says.
"Will us trying even help?" I grumble.
Nobody replies. Like I said, we've left this simmering way too long. If only we had offered a helping hand to Takashi earlier, it would have been much easier. Instead, we had ignored him and pretended he was fine. We have ourselves to blame. We were the people who he had counted on, and we had let him down.
"Then we'll keep trying again," Rose says.
Of course, it's the over-enthusiast who disagrees against my thoughts. Then again, sometimes it's a good thing to have someone who is hopeful when everybody else is shrouded in doubt.
.
.
Our attempts are fruitless. Takashi can't be found. It's been a week since I've last seen him. We would have filed a missing person's report to the police, but we've messaged him on Facebook messenger numerous time all the messages we've been sent have been 'read' by him. In other words, Takashi is choosing to ignore us.
It makes things harder for me. Because he's not going to work, I've been impacted. I've had to work overtime to help with Wired's guitar work and considering I'm helping my manager out in this aspect, all my solo sessions with the individual artists have been strained too. This stressful week has got my body aching. I almost wish I was back in Shimane, soaking it up in my grandparents' ryokan. The thought of being submerged in hot water is appealing. It would release all the tension I've accumulated. Maybe I'll hit one of the bath houses after Koushiro's launch. I don't even want to go. Maybe I'll go to the onsen instead-
Don't be a prick, Yamato. I repeatedly think this to myself as I force myself to get ready. I slip on a pair of polished black shoes, jeans and my favourite leather jacket over a white dress shirt. Simple, but comfortable. I'm sure Koushiro won't mind since I'll only be their momentarily. I don't plan to stay long because I have nobody else to keep me company at the launch. Miyako would have been my date, but she already agreed to taking her new boyfriend as a plus one. And now that Jun's never available, I had no choice but to go to the event on my own.
Everybody else had valid excuses not to attend. Takeru and Hikari are sick. The boys have something on, and Taichi is on yet another work trip. I'm glad his work trip is still within Japan because (surprisingly) even I worry that Taichi working himself to the grave. If people comment on me being a workaholic, I point out Taichi's worse because - well, he truly is.
It doesn't cease me from thinking that Taichi's ditched me yet again. Taichi knew that it would be Koushiro's big night tonight, yet he decided to stay in Nagasaki for another work conference. Koushiro's been chattering about this launch for the past year. He's quite the intellectual, creating a fingerprint computer system for the hospitals in Tokyo, available at each patient's bedside - giving doctors and medical staff immediate access to medical records, pathology and imaging results. Koushiro deserves all the credit because he's worked his ass off for this - which makes it quite disappointing that most of us aren't able to be here on his special night. Isn't it sad that the older we get, the more responsibilities we get. Adulting at its finest, I guess.
When I get to the function, I find Kou. He's sipping on some red wine, face slightly flushed as he speaks to a group of serious-looking individuals. The medical and business folk are completely different to me; it's like they're a species on its own. They converse in a geeky language which sounds like alien speak to me. During times like this, I realise how different Kou is to the rest of the group. He's a whole new level of brilliance, and it's a brilliance that people envy. I am envious, but because Koushiro is my friend, I worry more about people taking advantage of his crazy genius.
"Thanks for coming," Koushiro grins. His smile is weary and jittery, but I observe that he's pleased I'm here and was able to save him out of the flock of people - even if it's just for a moment. He finishes his wine, passing the glass to one of the waiting staff, then wipes his sweaty palms onto his pants. "I didn't think you'd come, Yamato."
"It's not my crowd, but I didn't want to miss your launch. Congrats!" I admit. I hand him a good luck charm for 'prosperous business' that I had bought yesterday from a temple I had visited. "I'm proud of you, Kou."
"You think this will help make a change? I'm nervous that the system might fail. What if the hospitals choose not to use my creation? Do you reckon it'll work?"
Ah, Kou's a bundle of anxiety.
"It will. You created it," I say, firmly.
Koushiro hardly makes a mistake because he goes through every problem in detail a trillion times. Whenever I have tech difficulties in the studio, he's the first person I go to. As well as being intelligent, my friend is reliable. He's the type of person who will do an all-nighter to make a solution to a problem. It's how is brain is wired up. My friend is soon, unwillingly dragged away by some cardiologist. I wave him off, telling him I'll see him next time and that I won't stick around any longer. After this shit week, all I desire is to crash at home and get some decent sleep.
I make my way to the exit, and it's then that I see her...in lace.
She's dressed up for tonight. Then again, it's the most dressed up I've ever seen her. Even for her thirtieth birthday, she had been attired in a casual outfit. Tonight, well - unlike me - she has truly dressed up for the occasion and had taken more care of what to wear.
Her dress is composed of black silk. Lace decors the dress and because there isn't any lining under the sleeves, her skin contrasts against the lace, showing off thin arms. The dress isn't completely form-fitting, but it's not disguising her figure. The length of her dress stops just above her knees, exposing her long, toned legs. She's taller, feet propped up by a pair of navy, suede heels. And there's a faint touch of make-up layered over her face. It's natural. Then again, Sora doesn't need to go overboard with the cosmetics because she already looks hot without it.
Christ, she looks hot.
Apparently, I'm not the only person who realises this.
There's this guy standing besides her, chatting her up. His smile is predatory. He's tall, a few inches shorter than me though. His suit is pressed, the fabric appears expensive. Obviously he's rich. I know this because his cufflinks are designed in kanji, the characters most likely spelling out his name. Yes, this man is definitely full of himself if we went that far to customise his own cufflinks. He's wealthy, so that doesn't give him an excuse for his poor fashion sense.
Sora laughs at something he says. I find myself snorting. I want to intervene, but should I leave? Do I want to depart from the launch now that I've seen her? I mean, it's been a big week. I should go home and pretend not to see her...or should I continue to watch the man flirt with her? Wait. Does she like him? No. Her smile looks forced.
It's not my business though. If I interrupt, it will look like I'm jealous. Am I jealous? Sora's an adult. She can handle the guy herself. I'm sure she's been hit on by countless of men before. She can leave him if she feels uncomfortable, which means that I should make my way and go home now too…but why am I eavesdropping on them?
"Down the hallway, there's an empty room we can check out," The asshole suggests to her.
I can see Sora getting irritated by the second. He's pathetic. This man really doesn't even know the definition of smooth. He's lost his chance now. Then again, I'm sure Sora's standards are high. She is a beautiful girl, after all. The exchange a few more words, and it's then that I notice the conversation take a turn. Sora's jawline is tight. She's frowning at the man, and it's then that I see the man stroke her thigh. I want to jump in now, but Sora's already in action as she shoves his hand away from her.
"I'm going to the toilet."
Asshole gives a disgusting smile, hand lowering to Sora's lower back. He ays to her, "We can go there together?"
And it's then that things get lively. Sora swats him away. Ensuring he does not make advances towards her anymore, Sora twists the heel of her shoe into his foot before making a run for it.
"You bitch!" He growls after her.
She glides past me, but she freezes for a second when she witnesses me standing there.
I smirk. "Takenouchi, you sure handled that well. He looks pleasant. Why didn't you give him a chance?"
Sora narrows her eyes, glaring at me. It's the same glare she used on the asshole, however it's not as piercing. It's kinda hot. Or maybe I just like getting under her skin because it's quite amusing watching her lose her get pissed off. I mean, isn't it that whenever we bump into each other, it's under extreme situations? Our first encounter does involve me almost running over her with my motorbike.
She grumbles that the man is a sleaze, then goes on to attack me, "Are you a sadist? Yamato, you could have been a good friend and pulled me out of that one."
"I've always had the impression that you did't need a knight in shining armour to rescue you." I shrug at her. I don't even know why I stuck around to witness the whole spectacle to be honest.
Well, she is my friend. Kinda.
Snatching two glasses of bubbling champagne by a server, I offer one to her. She accepts it without a question, gazing into her glass. "True. Though, I could have used with extra help."
I make fun of the asshole's customised cufflinks, saying that he was quite the catch to consider. She scowls at me and comments that I've been stalking her. I don't deny it. Chuckling, I ask her more about the asshole and why she had declined him. She amuses me, muttering how the asshole made a lame joke about HTML coding to get her to sleep with him.
God, it's been a while since I've laughed this hard. It's a good thing. I find that Sora isn't somebody to mess with, nor is the type of woman who likes to be lectured about how she is to live her life. It's refreshing. After such a terrible week, this is exactly what I needed. And, having Sora around for brief company is quite effective to easing my lethargy away.
"I must have committed adultery in my past life or done something evil to endure that. I was thinking, God, what did I do to deserve this? "
I remark, "Now don't get all biblical on me."
She retorts that if she aimed a bible at me, it would burn into ashes because I'm drenched in sin. Sora's funny. I have to give her that.
I change the topic back to the asshole, how he would have been a great candidate to bed. Ever since Sora and my last encounter, I can't get her words out of my mind. She had wanted to get laid. Not every woman would disclose this type of information with the opposite sex. Then again, Sora is really one of a kind.
"-the best opportunity comes up, with him basically pleading you for sex, yet you reject him. From how I see it, you could have given him a chance, Sora." I mock.
"Even I have standards," she replies.
Ouch. Fair enough.
I speak back, "I may not be gay, but he was not bad looking."
"No, really," Sora laughs. "I think I wasn't attracted to him because, asides from the seediness, I finally realised that he kinda reminded me of a guy I used to go out with."
Oh, so we're talking about exes now? I bite onto the bait, and progress along with the conversation. Call me curious. I question if she has many exes. Sora gets defensive, projecting the topic back onto me, obviously addressing Jun.
I explain to her, "I wouldn't really call it a thing. We're not really anything. The only real relationship I had was when I was in high school, before the band fame. It's hard to juggle a relationship when you're touring."
She munches on a piece of bruschetta that I had earlier swiped off a server passing by for her. "You seem like you've been juggling Jun for some time."
I want to correct her. Jun's probably been juggling me more. I don't get why we have to talk about each other's relationships. Why can't we talk about something else? But if I back out, this fiery game of power will be diminished and I like this game that we're playing. This verbal combat is enticing and not the slightest bit boring. When I joke about her having two relationships per year, she gets grumpy at me. Sora's nose crinkles, irritated my by comment and murmuring something amongst the lines that she isn't that easy. I know she isn't, but it doesn't prevent me from ridiculing her.
We eventually change topics and ask each other how we know Koushiro. It should have been something that had been discussed earlier since we were here for Koushiro's launch, and not meant to be conversing about our futile, non-existent love lives. I say to her that I had met Kou through Taichi, and that Kou's the good boy in our group that keeps us glued together. Sora's not surprised by this statement. We both laugh when we see Koushiro with a pretty blond woman at the bar and I say that he's potentially got a higher of getting lucky than we are.
We keep talking. We keep eating. We keep drinking.
The caterers are getting annoyed by us, but it doesn't stop us from taking off finger food from their platters. Sora and I are no longer thinking straight. Our thoughts are slurred, but we keep ranting to each other over trivial things. It's great - especially when your head is cloudy. I talk about how she's the mother hen out of the girls, how my brother is a brat, how our best friends are idiots (yet they're perfect for each other, and we wouldn't have it any other way), and how Sora's cheeks are becoming redder after each glass of champagne…
"Didn't expect you to go all hardcore, Takenouchi," I comment when she tells me that she's had over eight drinks.
She rolls her eyes at me. "I blame you. Before you arrived I had nobody else but the champagne to keep me company. Anyway, how can you say 'no' to free booze?"
"When you've clearly had enough," I respond. I grab the glass from her hands before she spills the drink. To prevent her from drinking it and getting more drunk, I down the glass myself. I catch her trying to get another champagne, but I lightly draw her hand back away from the tray.
Yes, she's drunk. Perhaps I should get her some food to sober her up…
As I reach to take another piece of bruschetta, the caterer sniffs at us and removes the tray from our reach. I gape, "Isn't that rude?"
"I think they found our master plan out," Sora giggles. "They know we're only here for the goods."
Scratching my head, I say, "So now that the goods are gone, how about we retreat? I'm sure Koushiro won't mind. We've made an appearance and have been here long enough. He's preoccupied anyway."
Her eyes light up, liking the idea of escaping the function. Seems like she's as eager as me to leave this place.
Instead of dawdling, why hadn't I thought about bringing up that we leave earlier? That would have saved us less time feeling out of place here amongst all the boring medical and business people.
Holding her by the arm, I help her down the flight of stairs. I'm tipsy, but she's worse than me. She's really wobbly. I'm afraid that if I let go, she'll fall down the steps. I try not to stare at her legs, though it's hard not to. "Please don't tell me you're thinking of taking the train home."
"No, I'm not stupid." She replies, "The taxi."
"You probably should sober up first. I'm certain the taxi driver wouldn't appreciate it if you vomited inside the car."
"I should be fine." She simpers at me. It's strained as she tries to hold herself up by leaning onto the wall.
I snigger at her sorry state. "Right..."
It's probably not the best option, but I don't want her going home in a taxi by herself. I can't completely label her as my friend yet, but she is important to my close-knit circle of friends. If something were to happen to her, they'd have my head. I hail a taxi, and I give the driver my address. She can stay at mine until she sobers up, I decide. At least then I know she'll be safe and that she won't speak to strangers. Even on my days off from babysitting my nephews and niece, now I'm assigned to babysit a woman? What has my world come to?
Sora only realises that we're heading to mine when we're a few streets away. She queries my intentions. I can see it in her eyes, almost distrusting my actions. We get out of the taxi and I lead her to my apartment complex. "Don't worry, Takenouchi. I'm not going to murder you."
And even if she wants to get laid, there's no way I'll let that happen. She's part of my friendship group. Things will get messy if we do. Besides, I hate doing it with a drunk woman. I voice these thoughts out loud, and she begins to drunkenly deny that she's 'not' drunk, like any other drunk person would.
The elevator opens and a couple walks past us. Sora scares me by her sudden movement as she swings around, screaming at them, "YOU! I'M GOING TO REPORT YOU TO THE AUTHORITIES!"
I groan, eyes widening as I realise that couple consists of an older man and an underage girl. The man looks embarrassed, which he should be, but the underage girl doesn't look like she's in a bind. In actuality, she's in a lolita costume and she's clinging onto the older man's arm, almost tenderly. There are no signs of struggle at all. Cosplaying isn't my thing, but it seems that the couple are both happy being together with their odd fetish...even if it's wrong, oh so wrong.
Sora's about to yell again, so I clamp a hand over her mouth. I'm startled when I feel that the palm of my hand get poked by something wet. Did she just lick my hand? I throw Sora a disgusted look, taking my hand back from her. It doesn't stop me from being quite amused by it all.
"Get away from him, you little girl!" Sora takes this to her advantage to shriek back at the couple.
"Mind your own business, old lady!" The girl in the lolita costume shrieks back.
I'm guffawing now, but I multi-task and yank Sora away before she starts a fight with the younger girl. Once inside the elevator I hold onto Sora's waist before she almost loses her balance and drops onto the ground. Our bodies are touching, as I support her with an arm as the elevator goes up. It's a shame that she's too drunk for her to realise our close proximity. Wait. Do I want to be this close to her when we're both sober? Why am I thinking this way?
I smirk at the predicament we're in. I talk to fill the silence, "And you're not drunk."
"I'm not. You're being unjust."
She's so close that I can smell the alcohol fumes in her breath. "You stink, Takenouchi."
"And you smell good, Ishida." She gives an adorable smile.
Oh hell. I chuckle.
When we get to mine, she takes off her shoes and starts running throughout the apartment, providing herself with her own personal tour of my place. I thought she was being silly, wanting to intentionally explore my rooms, but it's when she croaks out the single word 'toilet', I know all hell is going to let loose.
She barely makes it to the toilet. I can hear her vomiting from behind the bathroom doors. I cringe at the sound. She doesn't sound good. Not at all. She's there for a quarter of hour, trying to gain her senses back, as well as to steady her stomach. Over the period I let out a sigh of relief when the retching no longer can be heard. Sora finally re-emerges, eyes tired, face pale. She accepts a glass of water from me and thanks me for it.
Sora frowns. "Why didn't you stop me?"
From drinking, I gather. Then again, I was pretty bad too. I had my fair share of drinks too, picking up two glasses whenever the wait staff would materliase in our presence. I didn't know she had previous drinks beforehand, thinking that she could handle her drinks. She kept drinking though and I hadn't caught onto it earlier because I had been preoccupied on getting drunk too.
I smirk at her. "You were unstoppable."
She doesn't answer, collapsing onto my couch. As well as vomiting her guts out, she seems to have a headache or migraine now. Her hands are massaging her temples. If she's having a bad headache now, imagine what tomorrow will be like? Sora's going to have one hell of a hangover.
After microwaving some popcorn, I turn the television on. I can't leave Sora. I sit onto the remainder space of the couch that Sora hasn't occupied. If I go into my bedroom and sleep, that would be mean too. Nor can I find it in myself to carry her and tuck her into the bed in the guest room. I've already held onto her waist. I'm not that close to her to lift her up and carry her. Besides, I don't want to do anything else that will tempt me - not when she's like this.
"You have an unhealthy obsession with popcorn." Her eyes aren't even open, but she can guess what I'm eating by the smell of the melted butter.
"At least it's not bears," I retort, remembering the woman's frightful bear obsession. I can't get over it. Why would somebody want to collect bears? It's wrong. Plain wrong. If you were a child, sure. But Sora...Sora's a woman.
She opens one eye, and soon I feel my head being hit by the cushion she had been laying on. The impact makes me groan. "Why'd you do that for? If you had knocked the bowl of popcorn, I wouldn't have forgiven you. Popcorn is always good for witnessing chaos."
"The movie's boring," Sora sniffs. I didn't even realise that it's a movie that's on TV.
I shake my head, chuckling at her. "You're the chaos."
She laughs with me.
It's a wonderful laugh. Full of colours, pastels. Her eyes are warm, brown and tantalising. Although she's piss drunk, she still is captivating. At that moment I want to kiss her, but my eyes slip away from her lips. Stop thinking like this, Yamato. I kind of wish she's just fall asleep because the more time I spend with her, the more I get attracted to her.
Then she has to say, "So what are we doing? Are we Netflixing and Chilling?"
"Wow, I feel honoured." I say, sarcastically, "To think that somebody, like you, would consider me to be a worthy candidate. I meet your standards, huh?"
"Tall, blond and blue eyes?" She drawls. "I'd say that ticks all the boxes. You'll do."
She's dangerous. Our constant flirting with back and forth comments keep rising, and it makes something inside me flicker. I shuffle closer towards her, leaning over her body. I'm not touching her, but my arms are spread out on over both sides of her body, as she leans back, staring up at me with questioning, lustful eyes. I'm sure she sees the same look radiating from me.
"Now you're just wanting me for my looks. Isn't that insulting?" I say, quietly.
"A compliment on the looks is a good thing." She whispers, "Especially if it's just for a one night thing."
Shit. Is she implying what I think she is? Does she really wants to go ahead with this? Who would have thought the mother hen, was...damn. I can feel her breath against my throat. I swallow. "I'm single, and you're single…"
Sora catches me off guard, when she says, "What's stopping us then?"
Her rhetorical question becomes a permit. My mouth find her neck, sucking, planting a trail of kisses all over her. Her skin is smooth against my lips. She scents of delicious vanilla and when she gasps, my pulse quickens and I'm encouraged to keep going. Sora pushes be back onto the couch, and we're soon craving for dominance. We swap positions. I groan as she begins to unbutton my shirt, savouring the soft touch of her fingers against my chest.
A cough interrupts our movements.
Over the couch I spot familiar spiky copper hair and that darn goading grin of hers. Damn it Jun…
.
.
(a/n) A long chapter to make up for my long absence. The first part of the chp is new material, the second half you would have read in Sora's POV in the Bittersweet Catastrophe fanfic. Probably will update Bittersweet Catastrophe next, but it won't be immediate. Thank you for reading :) I'll edit this at some point...
Yamora - them flirting is amusing to write. it's difficult flipping perspectives at times, but yeah...you can definitely see that yamato is quite attracted to sora in this POV. haha. you're right about yamato being hard on himself. i think this is what makes writing in his perspective challenging. thanks for reviewing!
Dikus - this is subtle right now (ok, maybe not after the last scene), but you're correct that Bittersweet Catastrophe is going to go off soon xD both perspectives are entertaining to write. thank you for reading :)
.
As for the logged in reviews, I'll reply later. It's already 4AM. xD