Her foot catches slightly on the stone path and she stumbles, not enough to fall, but enough that her body tilts sideways.
"Elaine," I warn.
She wobbles again and I’m moving before she hits the ground. My hand catches her arm, the other going to her waist, pulling her back against . She’s much lighter than I expect.
She bursts out out laughingh, full bellied breathless laughter, like this is the funniest thing that’s happened all night.
"Wow," she says, turning her head to look up at . Her eyes are glassy and her pupils are blown wide. "Okay, yeah. I definitely smoked too much."
I tighten my grip. "You think?."
She grins. "My head feels like it’s floating sowhere above . Like I could just reach out and..." she lifts her hand and waves it lazily ".....catch it."
I swear under my breath. "You’re not funny."
"I am," she says imdiately. "I’m hilarious, You are just allergic to joy and happiness."
She tries to step away from and almost goes down again.
Yeah that’s it.
I bend and scoop her up before she can protest, one arm under her knees, the other braced behind her back, she lets out a surprised sound that turns into laughter halfway through.
"Oh my God," she says. "You’re doing the thing."
"What thing."
"The movie thing." She looks down at herself, then back at . "The Bridal carry thing, that’s very caveman of you Zane."
"Stop moving so much" I snap, adjusting my grip when she keeps shifts in my arms.
She laughs again, louder this ti, head tipping back until her hair brushes my arm. "What? I’m trying to get comfortable." She stays quiet for a while.
"Wow. You are really strong."
I don’t answer.
She reaches up and pats my chest, then my arms, in a slow and clumsy way. "Like... really strong. Do you work out or do you just wake up like this. Is it a genetic thing?"
"Elaine," I warn.
She ignores completely.
Her hand drifts higher. Fingers brush my jaw, unsteady but deliberate. She traces the line of my cheek like she’s curious about it, thumb dragging lightly along my skin.
My body reacts instantly, all her touching going straight down my groin. Okay maybe carrying her was a bad idea.
I grit my teeth.
She squints at my face like she’s studying it for the first ti. "You’re actually very handso," she says, voice softer now. "You know that, right." Trailing her hand down my chest.
"Don’t," I say.
She smiles. "Don’t what."
"Touch like that."
Her fingers pause, then slide again, slower this ti. "Why."
I start walking.
Each step toward the house feels longer than it should. She’s warm against , relaxed in a way she never is when she’s sober. Her dress rides up slightly at her thighs and I adjust my arm without thinking, trying not to focus on the feel of her skin.
She hums under her breath.
"What are you humming," I ask.
"I don’t know," she says cheerfully. "Sothing my mom used to play. Or maybe it’s not real. Everything feels a little... stretchy."
She giggles at that like it makes perfect sense.
I take the stairs carefully when I get inside, She wraps an arm around my neck halfway up, grip loose but trusting, and that does sothing worse to than anything else tonight.
"You sll nice," she murmurs. "Like soap, expensive soap and cologne. Do you buy the fancy kind?."
"Stop talking."
"No."
I reach my bedroom door and kick it open with my foot. The lights are off but I don’t bother turning them on. I cross the room and set her down on the edge of my bed. Now don’t ask, I myself don’t know what made take her to my room instead of hers.
She bounces slightly on the mattress and laughs again, then frowns.
"Why did you stop," she asks.
"Because you’re sitting."
She sways a little, hands braced on the bed to steady herself. "The room is spinning."
"Sit still then."
She leans back on her palms. "You’re very bossy."
I step away from her before I do sothing stupid, like throw her on my bed and fuck the hell out of her hot little body. My body hasn’t caught up to my brain yet and that’s dangerous.
She watches with unfocused interest. "Where are you going."
"To get you water."
"Aw," she says. "See?. You do care papi."
I stop and look at her.
She’s smiling at like she doesn’t know how badly she’s testing my control, like she doesn’t know how close I am to losing it.
"You’re drunk," I say flatly.
" I’m High," she corrects. "Different flavor."
I leave the room head down to the kitchen and co back with a glass of water and hand it to her. I have a perfectly working refrigerator in my room but I needed that little break away from her to calm the ragin monster in my pants. She takes it with both hands like it’s very important, squints at it, then takes a small sip.
"Blegh," she says. "This water tastes weird."
"Drink it Elaine."
She obeys, slower this ti. When she’s done, she hands the glass back and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
Then she looks up at again.
"You’re mad at ," she says, suddenly serious.
"Yes."
"Are you going to yell at ?."
"No."
She considers that. "Are you going to punish ?."
My jaw tightens. "Go to sleep, Elaine."
She smiles again, softer now, her eyelids drooping already. "Okay."
She tips sideways onto the bed, curling slightly, already halfway gone. Within seconds her breathing evens out, body slack and her mouth slightly parted.
I stand there longer than I shoul, just staring at her.
My body finally calms, leaving tired and tense, irritated with myself and feeling like a freaking creep.
I turn off the lamp, step back, and leave the room quietly, locking the door behind .
For her safety.
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