Passion '2 (15+)

"Remember when I promised to love you forever?"


"Forever isn't over yet."


34. Good night

I watched her from the door, while she walked a little around. Let her finger tips run over my desk, my cabinet door, my window frame, and then the sheets on my bed. Only the lamp on my nightstand was turned on, and it wasn't shining very bright. The light coming from the open door was what lighted up the room. She looked through my stuff on my desk, and grabbed a pen, and without me being able to see what she was writing, she wrote something on the blank piece of paper, sticking out under one of my books. - Yes, true... Books. I had started reading more in the years that had passed. Reading was a way of relaxing, after I had had a stressful day or something. 

After writing what ever she wrote down on the paper, she turned to face me, with a little smile. 

"Well, this is a nice place," Her voice sounded so calm, and it was music to my ears. I just smiled at her, hoping that she would say some more. Her strong american accent killed me. Usually I preferred British accents, but the way she talked like she'd grown up in the states, made me go crazy. You could specially hear it when she said, four, with that thick accent. Damn. 

"Would you mind if we moved our little party in here?" She smiled innocently, and placed her hand on the backrest of my office chair. 

"Interesting party. Me drinking coffee, you talking," I winked at her. 

"Oh shut up! I'm not talking that much," 

"Only a little tinyyy bit," I said in a sarcastic tone. She rolled her eyes, and looked over my shoulder. "You don't have any... Umm..." She bit her lip, and glanced at me for a second, then she looked around in the room. "Any?" I asked, and raised my eyebrows. 

"Anything to drink, do you?" She seemed quite embarrassed by asking, but I couldn't help but smile. That's how I remembered her. Good that she wasn't totally different.

"That's more like it," I smirked, and she looked back at me, with a smile.

"Well... I have a lot. What are you used to?" I asked, and leaned up against the doorframe. 

"Umm... Jack Daniel's, when it comes to whiskey, but just Smirnoff when it comes to vodka, and-" 

She talked a lot, so I decided to interrupt her.

"I have better things. Ever heard of the French vodka, Grey Goose?" I couldn't help but smile a little to myself.

She just shook her head.

"It's about 37 pounds," 

Her jaw dropped, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Let's take that one. It's one of the best." I decided. 

"Sure.." She tried not to sound surprised.

"Cranberry juice and Grey Goose?" I asked, and she just nod, probably without knowing what it even was. I smiled at her, with a feeling that tonight was gonna be a good night. 


She stayed in my room, as I went out in the kitchen to mix our drinks. I grabbed two tall slim glasses from the glass cabinet, hanging over the kitchen desk. 

After that I went down in the cabinets, under the desk, where I kept my precious alcohol. I smiled to the sight of the vodka, and the bottle was cold when I grabbed it. I poured about 3/4 of Emily's glass up with vodka, and then the rest was filled with cranberry juice. I wasn't trying to get her drunk, not at all. I wasn't like that, it would feel wrong to me. But a night like this would be terrible nice if we both had a bit alcohol in our blood, and felt a bit more relaxed. 

I poured the same in my glass, and grabbed both glasses, and took the Grey Goose with me, under my arm. I walked back into the room. While I was being careful not to let a single drop of our drinks escape from the glass. The door was still open, and Emily was sitting on my bed, with her phone in her hand. 

When I entered, she fast slipped her phone down in her pocket, and welcomed me with a smile. 
I placed the Grey Goose on my nightstand, and I joined her on the bed in the end of the bed.

I handed her one of the glasses, with a little smirk. 

As she slowly moved the glass with the cold liquid to her lips, I watched her, down to every detail. The way her lips moved when the placed the edge of the glass between them, and took a bit big sip. She fast moved the glass away, and couched. I grabbed her glass, so that she wouldn't drop it. She kept on couching for a little while, and then she moaned displeased. "Don't like it?" I asked. 

"It's really good! I just hate myself for being such a pussy when it comes to alcohol..." She muttered, and her cheeks turned slightly red. "It's just the fir-" I started, but she stared deadly at me, and I shut up. Then she smiled, and reached out for her glass. "I know. The first sips.. then it gets better, I've been there plenty lot of times before," She grabbed her glass. 

I took a sip of my drink, and let it burn down my throat, and heat my body. I loved the feeling.

She took another sip, and then followed by another one. Like I was about to say - before she interrupted me - it was all about the first sips. She crawled back in my bed, and placed her drink on the nightstand to the right, and I did the same, crawled back in the bed, but I placed my drink on the opposite nightstand. My nightstand. 

To see Emily lie on the place where my beautiful blonde girlfriend, that I had loved, used to lie, felt so ... Hard to place. I mean... It was like I was so happy to see her here, but I wasn't used to see any other girl in my bed. 

Emily's puppy eyes looked at me, "You look even better in the dark," She chuckled. 

"Shut up!" I laughed, and moved a bit closer to her. 

We drank some more, and watched each other. Without even planning it, we were trying to see who could drink it the fastest. She was grimacing too often, and was a lot slower drinker. I was done when she was half way. 

"Drink it up!" I insisted, and she leaned her head back, while she placed the glass between her lips, and opened her mouth a bit. She drank as much as she possibly could, and then she took a little break. Her mouth was not big enough to have all the liquid in it, and she sure didn't know how to open up her throat, so that the liquid just ran down. That's what I did. 

After some minutes she was done, and smiled big at me.

I filled her glass with pure vodka, and did the same with mine. 

When you already were a bit drunk, vodka was easy to drink, specially for me, and it pointed out that Emily drank it like water, but only cause she already was a bit drunk. After she had finished her number two glass, which I only had filled half way up, cause I didn't want to see her get shit faced.

She had had enough. Specially when she was still small. What she just drank was about four to five shots, of vodka, and I remember back when she got ten and she passed out on the couch, back in Brighton. 

She was drunk. Not wasted. But definitely drunk. 

I was a lot more used to alcohol, and it didn't effect me in such a strong way. I felt a bit dizzy, and my smile was enormous, but I was not as effected as she probably was. 

When I was with her I felt like a boy again. A teenage boy. Life was a game with her. It seemed so much brighter, and a lot less tough. Like I just got carried away with the wind, and I got carried in all the right directions. We made eye contact. 

I hadn't even realised how close we had moved to each other, but our clothes were touching, and our hands were lying terrible close to each other.

She looked down at them, and I watched them as well as she moved her hand closer to mine, and locked my fingers together with her, while squeezing my hand tightly. "You look beautiful tonight," I whispered. 

"You only say that because you're drunk!" She laughed.

"No, because tomorrow when I wake up... You will still be beautiful," 

She blushed.

I squeezed her hand even more, and our faces moved closer. So close that I soon could feel her alcohol breath on my skin. I opened my mouth a tiny little bit. While slightly letting my lips touch hers. Not like a real kiss. Our lips just touched. 

I watched her, as she shut her eyes.

And that's when I pressed my lips against hers. 





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