“Okay, quit it with the drinks. I think that’s enough, hmm? I’ll cover the tab, but for now, let’s get you home… ”
t/w: alcohol, drunk reader
The sweet, most colorful, and fruity drinks are the deadliest of all. And no one thought that it would be a good idea to warn the lightweight about that. Perhaps everyone was too absorbed with the current celebration, dancing, drinking, and mingling around, to have noticed the order of drinks making their way to the booth. The table was littered with tall, beautifully shaped empty cocktail glasses. All had their own colorful straws and garnish to accompany the sweet and fruity beverage. And tucked between them was one lone whisky sour.
If Schlatt could help it, he would have kept all those peachy, glittering drinks as far away from you as possible. You were good company to have, but he was not familiar with how you behaved when you were intoxicated. If he knew, he would have been able to avoid this situation; you holding a fruit garnish from one of your drinks to his sealed lips, lowly chanting, “Fruit, fruit, fruit” Your other hand was balancing a drink, its straw sitting loosely on the corner of your mouth.
What had happened was that Schlatt, being Schlatt, passed a sarcastic comment about never eating anything other than meat and you, nearing nine drinks in your system, took that very literally. Your drunk self was worried about the lack of nutrients he was getting, and you had taken it upon yourself to help that.
One of the waitresses of this restaurant was passing by your table. Catching your eye, you called for her.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” The waitress asked. As much as she wanted to, she was not going to question why you were holding a piece of fruit to the mouth of the gentleman next to you, who looked rather unwilling.
“I would like another one of-” Lifting your glass to her face, swaying lightly “these.”
Drinking the beverage was secondary, picking the fruits out was more of the goal.
Humph, as entertaining as you were drunk, Schlatt wasn’t going to let this continue nor was he going to let you get completely shit-faced. “Um, okay, no.” He moved your hand away from himself, “quit it with the drinks. I think that's enough, hmm?”
Your head was down but you still nodded.
“I’ll cover the tab,” The waitress took this as her cue and excused herself to get the bill. Schlatt downed the rest of his whisky sour and quickly downed yours as well. Attempting to rescue your cocktail was futile considering how he kept you at an arm's distance and pretty much inhaled the drink. Squirming helplessly was all you could do while he teasingly grinned at you. The waitress arrived, and Schlatt wiped out his card to pay for yours and his drink. He commented on how overpriced all the drinks were, “But for now, let’s get you home...What?”
Your head was still down, slouching with the piece of fruit between your index and thumb. Schlatt let out another huff, “Fine.” At least you weren’t the run-away type of drunk, nor did you try and start fights. As if you were never sulking, you popped the piece of fruit into his mouth with a cheery smile and got up.
They don’t look like they’re dating… From the corner of her eyes, the waitress chuckled, watching the two of you leave…But they are pretty cute together.
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The restaurant was a walking distance from your house which would have taken a little over ten minutes to travel. Well, it should have if you weren’t set so on checking every tree for apples.
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“And we’re here!” Schlatt exclaimed in relief, “Finally. For a second I thought you forgot your keys back there.” Opening the door to your apartment, he turned on the lights. A dim and warm light cast over the familiar living room.
“Didn’t I?” You asked drowsily, now coming down from the various intoxicating drinks. So you're the sleepy type, Schlatt mused. Clearly, the search for nutrition had tiered you out. He strolled behind you during the walk, making sure you didn't accidentally run onto the main road.
“Nope, they were just lost in your jacket’s pocket.” He rattled the keys out of the door, shut it close, and then made his way over to what he expected was your bedroom. You had been clinging to his arm for support up till now. Guiding you to your bed, Schlatt was careful to not let you slip and fall off the corner, which seemed very likely.
While you wiggled very elegantly into your bed, Schlatt had gone to retrieve a bottle of water. Returning from the kitchen he mentioned, "I saw you still have the movie tickets?" They were held up by magnets on the fridge. He remembered that they were from one of those drive-in movie theaters and how unusually clammy his hands got when, upon switching seats, he found himself next to you.
"Of course I do." You replied, kicking your shoes off lazily.
Though your eyes felt heavy, you felt compelled to recount all the events which took place that day. On a night like this, Schlatt had found himself in your company at the front of the car, where the two of you talked about how and what should be in the movie. The movie itself wasn't particularly interesting but the banter that you two had going on kept you from passing out. He grinned when you brought up how he had tried to heat a microwave popcorn packet with a lighter for fun and got scolded by one of the employees.
The storytelling continued while Schlatt took notice of the various things in your room; the trinkets on your shelves, books stacked messily beside them, 'The Chair' covered with a pile of clothes, your paperwork sitting beside your computer on your desk, and the photographs pinned to the wall behind them. There was one from that particular night.
Looking closer at the picture, you with your arm slung around his neck and his silly hover-hand around you, a familiar tightness clutched his chest. "That happened a long while ago...was it even that fun?"
This night's mood took a drastic turn.
"...it was the most fun I'd ever had."
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prompt credit: Simping Softness Prompts by @ soulmemes
