Drunk

Third person POV

A waiter passes with tray and she can't help but reach for another glass of wine. She doesn't let someone boss over me. Not even Jamal.

"Don't you dare give her that", he warns, his teeth clenched and the waiter pelts away, dreaded.

Her eyes are now like a half watermelon. He looks down at her, his height hovering over hers, even with her heels on.

"I didn't know my sister could make friends with you. I shouldn't have told her to look after you"

"But you fucking did man. Now what? You're just going to stand here until the party is over?"

His chiseled jaws come out even sharper as he glares into her eyes "I can see you're pretty stubborn. However, I have much stronger liquor. Just wait here"

He strode away in a swift and she stupidly stands there. He walks back to her in no time.

"Here, have this" he extends a bottle of whisky.

She looks at it dismissively "Why will you think I'd take this?"

"Because you are strong. You claim to be. It's time to prove it."

She looks at the drink, and back to him, eyes computing.

He adds, "If I wanted to taint your drink, I could've done that last time"

She reflects on the soda he gave her to drink. If indeed he wanted to poison her, he would've done it.

But his statement challenges her. And she knows she can't drink this because she's not alcoholic. Nevertheless, she hates being challenged, so she takes the offer. The bottle goes towards her head and her lips engulf the mouth of it.

She swallows the liquid all at once and Jamal stands there bewildered, his eyes tearing open, like a large sea fish. He doesn't let her extend the middle of the liquid as he snatches the bottle from her tight grip. He studies her deeply.

She feigns but mentally thanks him for saving her from drowning in this strong liquor. She opens her eyes that were closed throughout. They are blurry. She blinks them, trying to see clearer but nothing worked. She is drunk.

Her grip on the railing of the balcony is firm. She blows her cheeks and takes in a deep breath. Her head is so light that she is having a headache. Jamal studies her remorsefully, at the same time trying to withhold a chortle.

He knows her trick much more than she thinks. He waits patiently while she prays he leaves soon, her eyes becoming darker.

He feels guilty about it. But he plays a trick to make her give up. He shifts closer to her, his hand brushing against her waist. She topples over and due to her struggle her purse falls from her grasp to the floor.

She can't dare to pick it up but Jamal makes her do "Oh. You're bag is down"

Fuck it!

She can't control her balance anymore. She's shuffling on her feet now and if she bends down, she'd definitively stumble to the ground like a ton.

But she's also very stubborn remember. She tries to go down for her bag but her eyes warrants her to flop over. Jamal blocks her path and motions her to stand still; his hands hold the railing on either side of her waist, keeping her into his cage. Her back is pressed against his chest while she struggles control the tremor flowing through her veins.

She closes her eyes and aims her head back on his torso, a muffled moan escaping her lips. She bits her bottom lip but it's already too late. He heard that.

Their closeness is too suspicious. It's his engagement party for F sake. He leans in and whispers, "You're not going to have your purse except you accept the fact that you're just weak and need someone to help you"

She hums and he smirks.

...

Patricia has been looking all around for Myla but she can't seem to find her anywhere. She remembers that she loves being alone. And the first thing that crosses her mind is to look at the balcony space.

Jamal is still engulfing Myla. He taunts, "God said no drinking of strong wine, alcohol . . . name it. But here you are drunk. You got tempted and fell so deep."

She tries to speak but nothing sensible comes out. Patricia walks in and halts in her steps at the sight of her brother and friend, their closeness being her first watch.

Her mouth is wide open as she lets out "What . . . is going on here?"

Myla straightens her neck, her head away from Jamal's crate. He looks over to his sister "Common, take your friend to one of the rooms before you can start asking me silly questions"

She chuckles, amazed "Is she drunk?" her eyes moving to the almost empty bottle of whisky in her brother's hand.

Patricia moves closer and her eyes grow even wider "Isn't this your very expensive bottle of liquor or . . . I'm I seeing something else?"

"I've told you to keep your gibberish questions to yourself and take her to the guess room. She can't even stand straight."

Myla succeeds in opening her eyes. "I got this", is all she says. Yet, Jamal doesn't leave her to walk. "Stop fighting"

"Hold up . . . did you just give her that?"

Jamal sighs, frustrated; his breathe fanning Myla's neck as she takes in his deodorant. How can he make his sister understand that he needs to join the party and get Myla away before someone else sees him like this and misinterprets the scenario?

Patricia reads her brother's expression and holds her friend as Jamal slowly lets go. He inhales heavily and picks up her purse.

Will Myla regain her senses after taking this? This is more than poison. She's regretting accepting his offer.

She'd feel humiliated passing in the hall, with a drunken face: All these because of Jamal and her stupid head for playing his game.

But she has no choice. She has to get out of here before she starts talking shit!

Patricia supports her, taking her from the biceps. Jamal watches as his sister strode away with her. She tries her best to look normal on the way but it fails her so fucking much.

He looks down at her purse in his hand and his fiancée walks immediately after Patricia left with Myla.

"I've been searching for you everywhere-" Latif hangs on her words after seeing the purse he holds in possession.

She remembers that Myla held that bag and now Jamal has it to himself. Was he with her all this while?

"I'm sorry I had something to handle out here" he replies

She raises her eyebrows "Whose is that?" her eyes falling on the small bag.

He brings back his eyes to the beautiful thing he has captive, as if seeing it for the first time "Myla. She left it here."

She opens her mouth to say something but he regains his gaze at her, taking her off guard. She swallows hard, smiling faintly.

"Should we?" He proposes towards the occasion and she nods "Sure"

She holds his arm and leans over his shoulder. While his mind wonders on the earlier conversation he had with Myla.

...

Myla has been brought to a room. Patricia doesn't stop smiling. She loved how close her friend was towards her brother. And the manner in which her brother took care of her situation, makes her happy.

She won't forget this. That's what she wants and she hopes they get to know each other and spend time together frequently.

"Your brother is a dick" Myla suddenly says.

"Oh. Did both of you have a fight?"

She doesn't acknowledge this either. Her mind is floating. She needs rest. How will she even return home in this state of hers? She can't ask patri to take her home. It's her brother's engagement today.

Myla settles in bed while Patricia helps, take of her shoes. The sheet is fluffy and comfy. She just falls into a deep sleep instantly and Patricia smiles before exiting the room.

At pass Midnight

There was no time for Myla to take a shower. She was just too tired and light headed. She wakes up after a long night. She hums at the pain in her head, her hands moving up there to rob it.

She remembers not telling Mrs. Mehdi about her departure. But then she notices she isn't in her house but Jamal's.

She jerks straight up, staring at the dark room. And that pain in her head comes again. She couldn't have taking that liquor. What came over her to be this stupid? She just humiliated herself and now he's going to keep taunting about the lapse of acknowledgement.

She mentally smacks her cheeks, also remembering that she left her back there. She can't believe she'd have to face him again.

Oh no!

She rubs her face. Life is not fare.

She needs to take her shower. She scans the room again and spots a dress on the bed she just laid in. Patricia must have left it there for her to change.

She smiles, grateful of the girl's kind thought. She holds the light gown and walks to the bathroom. The bathroom has everything she needs as well: towel, new toothbrush to remove that disgusting scent of whisky.

She gets into the shower at once and the coldness of the water helps in cooling her mind, peeling away every other odor except Jamal's gentle colon. She can still get his whiff over her tangible skin like he slept next to her the entire night.

His husky voice tingling her ears, her neck and making her hallucinate the moment she flopped against his crate. It felt so comfortable and secure.

To be continued...