Disclaimer: I do not own Life is Strange or its characters. I also don't own Metro Station's Wake Up.
Wake Up
by. xxBurningxx
I don't wanna wake up without you now,
even when the sky comes falling down.
Let's live forever, always together.
I don't wanna wake up without you now.
I don't wanna wake up without you now.
When your heart is broken and on the ground
I'll pick up the pieces, always for keepin',
I don't wanna wake up without you now.
It's the sound of someone muttering under their breath, followed by the soft click of the door shutting, that ultimately manages to drag Chloe up and over the line of consciousness. Blinking her eyes open, she stares at the pasty dull ceiling for all of three seconds before memories begin flooding back to her like a torrential tsunami crashing down on her. She shoots up into a sitting position and immediately finds herself regretting the decision, pain lacing across her head. Placing her hands over her eyes for a few seconds and willing the unpleasantly clingy hangover to go away, Chloe takes a looks around her room.
She spots her clothes on the floor, and while that's not particularly unusual, it's the fact that said clothes are from last night and not on her body that send a jolt of adrenaline down her spine. Oh, right... Looking over, there's an absence in the bed next to her, but a clear indicator that someone had been there not long ago, considering that the comforter's thrown up and a quick pat of the area tells her it's still warm.
That must have been them leaving... Chloe thinks, but then there's an alarming sense of urgency gnawing at her gut, because the previous night brings forth memories of her heart racing and sharp brown irises filling her vision. Immediately stumbling out of the bed and scrambling to make herself at least somewhat decent, Chloe manages to stagger outside and down the stairs of her apartment, eyes searching the sidewalk and parking lot outside. There's no sign of the... it only takes a few seconds of digging through her fuzzy thoughts to vividly recall the brunette she'd been with last night.
Short hair, impossibly cute freckles, and a surprisingly witty tongue despite her inebriation. Chloe finds her heart thumping a few paces too fast at the mental images that are surfacing and she drags herself back inside, her mood admittedly soured a little at the fact that she hadn't been fast enough to catch the girl before she left.
Once she's inside, she properly fixes herself up and throws on a fresh set of clothes, not that it matters much because she promptly throws herself down on the bed when she's finished. Groaning into her hands, Chloe mentally curses herself. Idiot! Why do you gotta sleep so much?! If only I'd woken up sooner... or if she'd bother to wake me up without just leaving... She scowls then. Yeah. That was common courtesy, right? Sneaking out without a word was considered rude these days, wasn't it?
But her thoughts flicker to the previous night, them sitting in a somewhat secluded booth in the corner of the bar.
"You're really cute, you know that? I don't, uh..." She trails off like she forgot the words she was planning on using. Then she suddenly slaps a hand down on the table as the syllables seemingly return to her. "I don't usually say that about strangers. Not out loud, at least," she giggles. "It must be because I'm drunk." The last word comes out on a note that borders sing-song.
"Maybe you should stop ordering these, then," Chloe says with a smirk, snatching away the fresh shot that's been brought to the table, and throwing it back and down her throat. It burns her insides, and she relishes in it; probably due to the fact that it's her third one already and the buzz is really starting to hit her now, but the orange glow of the bar lamp makes the brunette seem as though she's radiating beauty. And she's not beautiful by stereotypical terms, no, but the college-girl across from her is undeniably hot in a strange way that Chloe's not used to being attracted to.
"What about your friends?" Chloe adds, throwing a glance at the somewhat small group of loud guys on the other side of the bar; they're whooping and hollering, despite the fact that they don't look like the typical bar crowd. There's one poor girl who seems to be with them, who's trying hard to fit in, but she's only holding a can of soda in her hand and currently awkwardly staring at the ground.
The brunette looks at them too before answering, "Forget them. Warren's friends are sort of assholes, anyway. Not that Victoria and her crew isn't either." She groans. "Fuck all of them. I don't even wanna think about anyone from Blackwell tonight. You're not from Blackwell, right?"
She laughs. "That preppy-bitch college? Nah." Then Chloe pauses, bites her lip, and then adds, "Okay, well I sorta went for like, three months before they kicked my punk-ass out."
The girl across from her offers a sly grin. "You were too good-looking for them to handle."
Chloe has to give the other girl points, because she's consumed four—or was it five?—shots already, and that's not including whatever she'd already had with her friends, but is still managing to make her blush. And she doesn't look like the type who'd handle her alcohol well. "If my looks were too much for them, you better watch out, because I figure you've only got a few days before they're kicking you out too."
And that earns her a stomach-twisting grin in response.
It feels like every inch of her fucking skin is on fire, a blazing inferno as she runs one hand through the brunette's hair and the other grips her waist. Her breath comes out in small little pants when she opens her eyes, and the brown eyes staring back at her are threatening to swallow her whole. "So do you have a name?" she breathes, leaning in for another chaste kiss before breaking and continuing, "Or do I have to keep referring to you as 'hot-college-girl' in my head?"
"Mm, I'm not used to being referred to as hot... I sorta like it..."
Chloe has to bite her lip to contain the groan that nearly escapes past her throat when the brunette ducks her head and begins nibbling at a spot beneath her ear. Then, feather-light across her skin, she mumbles, "Max," and the responding shiver that ripples down Chloe's entire body is almost enough to make her knees weak.
"I'm Chloe," she replies, pulling 'Max' back and diving in for her lips. Despite the drunken and aroused haze that's nearly completely eaten up her brain's ability to think, she can't ignore the spark that sizzling between them; it's a sharp and buzzing little thing she hasn't encountered with another person for a very, very long time. Somewhere in the back of her muddied thoughts, she hopes it's not just her imagination.
Then Max is pushing her against the wall, and her mind is promptly wrought back to the woman in front of her, who's sucking on her neck. "Fuck," she hisses, head thumping against the drywall, fingers twisting in the back of Max's shirt. Without really thinking, her hands begin tugging at the fabric, attempting to lift the material up, which results in Max backing up ever-so-slightly.
And for a terrible second, fear and panic dart up Chloe's spine, terrified she's misread their current situation. But Max's eyes sober up just a bit, and she says, "I really don't... do this. Like, ever."
Chloe offers the best smile she can, but she's not sure how successful it is. "Honestly, me neither." It's true. She hasn't been in bed with someone else since... even now, Chloe refuses to recall the name. Max looks away for a second, and Chloe just stares at her ruffled hair and red cheeks and cute freckles and adds, "We don't have to if you don't wanna."
The buzz of arousal that blazes through her when Max is on her lips again is enough to make her feel like she's floating, and this time she doesn't try to contain her moans.
"Maybe she panicked?" Chloe mumbles to herself, sighing and shutting her eyes. She tries really hard to ignore the disappointment bubbling under the surface of her skin and radiating throughout her chest. She tries telling herself that she shouldn't be surprised, because this was the nature of one night stands. But nothing she attempts to reassure herself with does any good, because all that she can think about is that spark they'd had.
Groaning, and not in the good way like the previous night, Chloe rubs her face, remembering that she's supposed to work today. Figuring from the way the sun's already a fair height up into the sky and streaming through the window, she has a sinking feeling that she might already be late. Fuck it, I feel like shit and I'm calling in sick, she thinks to herself, rolling over to reach for her phone. Her boss will be pissed but Chloe's current state of mind is screaming about how she doesn't care.
That's when she sees the little sticky note plastered to the device.
And when she hastily makes a grab for it and sees the ten individual numbers scrawled there, Chloe has a remarkably difficult time wiping away the grin that's wormed its way onto her lips.
Author's Note: Dammit... I guess it'd be cruel if I didn't write a third chapter where they meet up in a less inebriated fashion, huh? Yeahhh. There's a very good chance I'll be writing a short third chapter to sum things up with this.
If you haven't already read it, I recommend checking out my Pricefield AU, Of the Night, where I'm putting a lot more effort into planning and developing the plot, and it's also a full-length story haha. Thank you.