She led me to a corner of the place, where the music didn't reach us fully. My ears had been familiarized with the loud sound, so it was a little weird to be in a quieter place. Being able to hear her voice so effortlessly felt like bliss. There was no need for shouting, or having to try hard to understand what people were saying.

"Do you hate me for not saving you sooner?" Cordelia asked me with a raised brow. With her back flat against the wall, she bit her lip in mischief.

"A bit," I replied with the same amount of playfulness. Truth and joking, fifty fifty.

A string of giggles danced out of her mouth. It was the most important, beautiful, and precious sound in the world. No matter how many times I heard it, it never failed to mesmerize me. Every time she laughed, I felt like there'd be a new star born in the night sky. They would make up a constellation someday, and name it after her for sure.

"Honestly though," Cordelia continued. Her arms came around my neck, fingers playing with my untamed curls. "I'm just glad to see you getting along with them. I know you grew up in a small community and didn't have any, um, human friends. I was worried you wouldn't be able to make any friends here, in the coven, I mean. So, it makes me happy to see you with them."

Her cheeks glowed in pink. Even in her drunken state, her grace was unmistakably present. It was like she carried a piece of heaven around wherever she'd go, whatever she'd do.

"They set my teeth on edge though."

She threw her head back and laughed. "I know they do, love. I know."

And she kissed me, fully on the lip. I was taken aback at the boldness of her act. She was generally quite reluctant to even hug in public. Kissing in a place full of people, it was certainly new.

It is the alcohol, I told myself.

Along with the moderately loud music, I heard someone whistle behind us. Or it might have been my imagination, the work of my awkward cowardice. I pulled back, but the newly-created gap between us seemed to annoy Cordelia. She instead buried her nose in my hair, her arms still insistently wrapped around my neck.

"Dance with me?" Her breath tickled my skin. I could feel my pulse, beating against her cheek.

"This ain't Stevie. I dunno if I can."

She only hummed. Separating our bodies with gentle force, the dark brown eyes of her smiled at me. "Don't move. I'll be back." She left after kissing my cheek.

I remained still by myself. In the isolated corner, I stood there as awkwardly as a Christmas tree in the middle of summer. I looked around, and found a guy across the room. His brows were knotted together in what seemed like dejection, his upper lip perched on the edge of the glass in his hand. Although there was a huge distance between us, I could sense his frustrations, his anger towards the people who didn't care a bit about him. He only glared at them dancing in joy. Even in this jubilant place, he was alone.

I wondered if people saw me now and thought the same thing about me as I did about him. I started to fidget, itching for Cordelia to come back.

Just as I was thinking about moving, the music changed. It sounded different from the insanely upbeat music that had been blaring. My body bounced without my noticing. The rhythm of the song felt familiar, even natural. It took me another minute to recognize the song. Some changes had been made to fit the clubbing scene, but the rhythm of the instruments was unmistakable. It was Dreams. My guess was proven to be right when Stevie's voice filled the place.

Cordelia came back in no time, with a big smile plastered on her face.

"This is Fleetwood Mac. How'd ya do that?"

She scrunched her nose up. "I might have used Concilium on the DJ." A few chuckles escaped her lips when I looked at her in disbelief. "Just kidding. I asked him oh-so-nicely." She wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her cheek on my shoulder. "He now knows the color of my bra, though."

"Miss. Cordelia!"

"It's a joke, babe. Relax." Her hands stoked my arms up and down as she calmed me down. Then she took my hands. "Now, dance with me before the song ends."

We stayed quiet while we swayed our bodies together to Stevie's voice. I closed my eyes, feeling beyond happy. We had danced like this many times before. In the greenhouse most of the time. But it was always me who would initiate it. Tonight, for the first time, she had asked to dance with me. I wasn't blind to the fact that she was drunk and feeling bold, but I couldn't care less. This still counted.

It meant she treasured little moments like this as much as I did. Nothing, I was sure, would make me happier.

"Mist?" she spoke when the music started to fade away. "If they'd kept asking, who would you have said is the hottest?"

This topic again. I inhaled but kept my sigh in.

"I don't know. I don't think I have a type."

Cordelia gave me a nod while she contemplated. But what could she possibly think about when her brain cells were being annihilated by alcohol? I should've seen it coming, whatever she'd come up with. Perhaps I wasn't thinking clearly, either.

Her face lit up, and I could see a light bulb above her head. "I have an idea."

She took my hand and we headed to the bar. I watched her grab some napkins and talk to a bartender.

Some random dude made an attempt to get my attention by rubbing his butt against my leg. His lopsided smile –was he trying to be sexy?– did nothing but creep me out. I kept myself as close to Cordelia as possible and appropriate.

Cordelia brought her attention back to me. Two shot glasses of whatever in her hands, one for each. She downed it like a pro, Fiona-style probably. I followed suit with much less elegance and bravado. The mysterious liquid set my tongue and throat on fire. A keen sound of her glass cut its way through the music as it hit the surface of the wooden counter. Her glass had nothing left in it, empty like Madison's bank account by the end of the night. Nibbling on a slice of lime, she didn't notice my half-full glass.

"I have an idea," she shouted, without taking the trouble to bring her mouth closer to my ear this time.

"I know. Ya said that already."

She found it funny for some reasons and laughed, her bottom lip between her teeth. "Let's play a game, yeah?" She handed me a napkin and a pen she'd borrowed from the bartender. "We each create a list of five people who you would sleep with if you didn't have to worry about any consequences or restrictions."

I couldn't help but narrow my eyes. "What?"

She leaned into me. "I said–"

"No, I know what ya just said. But…why?"

"Because it's fun! Plus, that way I can know what your type is."

Without waiting for my answer, she started to scribble. I watched the way her pen twirled and leaped on the fragile piece of napkin, and the way she occasionally lifted her gaze to think. I stared at my blank napkin. This was as baffling as the fuck-marry-kill game. Why do people enjoy this type of games? Or am I the weird one, for not seeing the point of this?

Not having any name to write down, all I could do was to wait for Cordelia to be done. It felt like forever, like time flew slower around me. Then Cordelia, having finished her list, leaned in to take a look at mine.

"Darling, you haven't written anything." She tilted her head.

I had to act as nonchalant as I could. "I couldn't think of anyone. Maybe I drank too much."

"Me too," she giggled. She placed her hand on my shoulder and said: "Excuse me, I have to use to the washroom."

"I'll be here," I shouted at her back as she already started to walk away.

Her figure was soon engulfed by the enormous body of the crowd. I was left alone with only myself to talk to.

My fingers reached for Cordelia's list with little enthusiasm. Her usually neat handwriting remained intact even under the influence of alcohol, I had to give her credit for that. As far as I could guess from the names, the list was a mix of females and males. I only recognized two out of the five, a male actor and a female singer. I could tell they were both conventionally attractive. I already knew the actor was her favorite; she'd talked to me about his eyes more than once. But the singer? Honestly, I didn't know how she'd made it on the list.

A figure appeared out of the corner of my eye, making my heart jump. Instead of Cordelia's dark brown eyes, I was met with a pair of pale grey ones, lit by the light above our heads. The woman smiled. I smiled back. I realized it was the butchy woman that Madison'd mentioned in the game earlier.

"I really love your hair," the woman shouted with slight British accent. "Makes you look like a forest fairy."

"Really? Thanks. No one's ever described it that way." The compliment colored my cheeks. I self-consciously raised a hand to touch my mane.

"Are you kidding? It's absolutely gorgeous. Is that your natural hair?"

I nodded.

"Listen, I work at a hair salon just down the street. I can give you a free haircut if you'd like."

"Oh wow, thanks." I looked at the card she'd just given me. "…Stephanie. I like that name. Mine is Misty."

"Misty? That's such a mystical name. I'm more convinced that you are a fairy."

I bit my lip to keep myself from blushing any further. Perhaps it was those grey eyes that made me nervous, or it could have been the fact that she and my hero shared the same name.

Suddenly, a hand came from right behind me, grabbing me by the arm. I was forced to turn around, and saw Cordelia there. Her lips pursed, there was layers of flames inside her eyes. I furrowed my brows but wasn't given a chance to say anything. Taking hold of my chin, she forcefully brought our lips together, kissing me hard.

It couldn't have been just the alcohol that mad her act like this. There was something else.

It ended just as quickly and unexpectedly as it'd begun. Even after our mouths had separated, she didn't create a slightest gap between our bodies. She threw a death glare of Madusa at Stefanie, who awkwardly walked away.

With my hand in hers, Cordelia also started to leave the place. I was too stunned while she led me through the crowd. It was only when we came back to our table did I finally realize what had just happened.

"Miss. Cordelia, ya still owe me an e'planation."

"For what?" She poured the rest of the tequila bottle into her glass. It threatened to overflow.

Most of the girls were gone, dancing somewhere or drinking their money away. There were only Zoe and Kyle left in the booth, snuggling together like a couple of lovebirds in their nest.

"For kissin' me in front o' Stevie!" I shouted back with a thicker accent. I was too frustrated to speak smoothly, or to sit next to her. "Ya scared her away!"

"Oh, is that her name now? No wonder you have a soft spot for her."

"What're ya talkin' 'bout?"

"What am I talking about!? She was flirting with you!"

"Wha– no, she was just bein' nice 'n' friendly is all." My throat started to hurt from all the yelling.

"Yeah? What did you two talk about, then?"

I choked on words for a second. "Ma hair. She said she was a stylist 'n' could give me a free haircut."

Cordelia shook her head at me, as though amazed by my naïve ignorance. "Mist, she was trying to get in your pants. Nobody does anything for free without expecting something back from you."

"That's not true, no." I shook my head too, my fists on either side of my hips. I felt the familiar lump in my throat. There was heat creeping up inside my chest, and I knew it wasn't alcohol. "I never expect anythin' back when I help people. You– ya didn't ask for nothin' when ya sheltered me. Didn't want nothin' when ya saved me from ma hell."

"Because I liked you! I did all of them so you would look at me!"

I genuinely hoped she couldn't see my face. I felt a thousand of needles inside my chest. This way and that, they stung everywhere. If my heart were a balloon, it would have exploded from all the keen pressure.

I couldn't believe her words.

Doesn't she know what she is saying?

"Are ya sayin' that ya wouldn't have done 'em if ya didn't like me?"

My voice was too low to be heard.


This is the end of part 1 of the story, y'all. Next chapter coming soon ;)