[center][sub][sub][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190531/e68e3fd0fe32b5037800d15ba9342209.png[/img][/sub][/sub][/center] [center][img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/5dd8703bd98f61e07a09889986ecf9b9/tumblr_ob3kj8C1Hk1sqstgio3_250.gif[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/XyucAsL.jpg[/img][/center] [center][sub][i]A collaboration by [@Lionhearted] and [@Days][/i][/sub][/center][hr][hr] [INDENT][INDENT] Felix comfortably resided by the door, leaning back on the cool bricks of the building as he swished the whiskey in his cup habitually. He had already watched the sunset, talked to the most beautiful girl his eyes could find, and drank enough whiskey to feel his sobriety slipping away faster than the length of the radiant twilight. Drunk Felix was like a teeter totter when it came to his mood, influenced heavily based on his surroundings and the situations at hand. While he tries to be the cliche of a daring, spunky drunk, he tends to be more of an angry drunk—not something that he’s proud of. Felix stared at the night sky, trying to pick out the stars that would make their appearance first, not for any particular reason other than to have something to focus on. The stillness calmed him, isolating himself from his surroundings enough to enjoy a comfortable medium of his two drunken sides. But, the blare of the music roared through the air, shaking his unmoving rumination. He winced, trying to detest the anger that would begin to contaminate his mood. Felix took another sip of his whiskey with no cringe of discomfort this time, becoming used to the burning, yet warming, sensation. It wasn’t that Felix disliked party music, it just reminded him of the strip club, sending him bad memories with an urgency to feel at work. Instead of succumbing, he took a deep breath in preparation for social interaction, taking another sip of whiskey and mingling his way towards the source of the music. Although—it only took a few steps and a quick glance to become halted in his tracks. The commotion around him slowed, his gaze piercing through the crowd to recognize the guy on the stage. Felix, doubting his vision, blinked a few times to unveil the haze from his tainted cognition, and his initial sight was right. The teeter totter swung to one side, weighed down by a bag of heavy concrete, the anger within him boiling to the edges of his being, and his grip tightening to bend the plastic of his cup. Felix let out a low growl of irritation and frustration, gritting his teeth, and still caught in his steps by the scrutiny he placed on the egotistical asshole—Alfie Holmes. And while Alfie danced on that stage, Felix felt he could see right through his facade and his wide smile, though it appeared that Charlotte was becoming allured by his fake charm. He furrowed his brows, pinching the bridge of his nose, convincing himself that Charlotte was smart enough to not befriend someone like Alfie. It wasn’t just Felix’s drunken anger that stirred his thoughts, but also his protective nature that sought to keep those he cared about away from people like him. [color=BE4900][i]‘I can’t—I shouldn’t—I’m not going to say anything. I gotta,’[/i][/color] Felix thought to himself before taking another drink, [color=BE4900][i]‘I gotta get out of here.’[/i][/color] And with that thought, he was pushing through people, occasionally looking back with confliction on whether to start a fight or not. [color=BE4900][i]‘The door, where’s the fucking door!’[/i][/color] He could hear his heart beating fast with rage, his wobbly stride making his way towards the door, but his unsteady daze confused him. Before he knew it, he nearly pushed over a woman much shorter than him, the contents of his cup staining her white shirt with his sticky, copper-brown whiskey. A reflex in him kicked, wrapping his arms around her body to prevent her from falling back, feeling immediate guilt from almost body-checking someone who seemed so delicate next to him. As the brunt of the moment passed, Felix put on a pained expression, [color=BE4900]“I am so, so sorry.”[/color] As he gathered himself, he wanted to take the opportunity to really look at her, but his gaze was fixated on her blue-green eyes, drawing him in effortlessly. His lips parted in awe and his pained expression became flat as his eyes focused, darting back and forth between her irises. It could’ve been from the blur of his intoxication that he became so captured by her eyes, but he couldn’t deny the marveling feeling. And so he stood there for however long she’d allow it, unintentionally holding her with his arms tangled in her long, wavy hair. Do you know that feeling of jumping into the water from a height, but landing on your chest? Wet, impactful and 100% unplanned? Yes, well that was exactly what Amberle just experienced. The small Dutch woman did not register the liquid that found it’s last resting place on her chest because the sheer force of a man significantly taller than her knocked her off her feet. Literally and figuratively. She was knocked back and with her hand firming the grasp on her bag she braced for impact. But it did not come, as the broad stranger wrapped his strong arms around her. He made her feel as light as a feather, and it seemed that holding her cost him next to no effort. Their faces were so close, Amberle could smell the whisky on his breath. But also a warm, musky scent that stirred something awake inside her. She made eye contact with him, belatedly realising that the man that knocked the wind out of her delicate lungs was no other than the cello guy. The blood in her body once again rose to her cheeks as she realised how close they were. His pained eyes were staring so deep into hers she wondered what he was searching for in them. Before becoming transfixed to his hazel eyes, Amberle snapped out of it. She flashed a toothy smile and raised her free hand up and placed it on his chest. This man; If you look up chiselled in a dictionary his picture would be there as a sole definition. [color=#8fbc8f]"Oh no need to be sorry! I think it was me not paying attention anyway."[/color] She chuckled with an apologetic face before taking in a deep breath and pushing herself off him gently so she can stand straight again. She didn't increase the distance between them though. Her hand went from his chest to her own, where she noticed the stain on her white shirt, running down the exposed part of her belly and to her skirt. [color=#8fbc8f]“Besides, it's not every day a man like you wraps his arms around me.”[/color] The brunette winked playfully before furrowing her brow looking down at her stained shirt. She tugged the fabric sticking to her wet skin. Felix’s mind resurfaced slowly, her voice muffled at first but becoming more and more coherent as he came back to reality—the sounds around him increasing in volume like he was coming up from underwater. Her touch was gentle. Although it felt light against his chest, it made his heart feel heavy. Felix drew his arms closer slowly, unintentionally feeling the contour of her hips, still very clearly coming out of captivation, but taking his time as he glanced over her slim, tan body. He let out a chuckle, seeming to still ignore the scenario at hand, [color=BE4900]“You, uh. You have very beautiful eyes.”[/color] There was silence before he snapped, [color=BE4900]“Oh, shit. Sorry. Ahhh! Let me, uh.”[/color] Felix scrambled around, going to the nearest table to grab whatever he could find—in this case, it was a handful of party napkins. He then came back in a hurry, but sheepishly passed it over to her in embarrassment for not being able to obtain anything better than lame party napkins, and to save from him, a stranger, wiping her very alluring body. Felix stuffed his hands in his pockets to prevent him from being any more clumsy than he already was, [color=BE4900]“Well, you make it feel extra bad for me because you’re so kind about it. Any other girl would’ve just slapped me—I mean, you’re so beautiful, it’s like I just committed a sin.”[/color] He shook his head, a dimpled smile appearing after he tried to wipe his blush away with his hand, [color=BE4900]“And to think you thought this was your fault? No, it was all me, hun.”[/color] Amberly stood awkwardly while he ran off to probably find something to get rid of the whisky. However, the liquor already stained a big part of her pale white shirt. She realizes she may have to go change. But it didn't matter because he called her eyes pretty, and her blush was back in full force. She couldn't even blame excessive amounts of alcohol this time, as it was clear that she didn't drink anything yet. He came back and handed her some napkins, which she took. While he spoke, embarrassment made him not look at her, which made it hard for Amberle to follow what he was saying. She tried to keep looking at this lips to read, which makes her head follow his movements like a cat that sees a laser light. His lips moved a bit odd, which is usually the result of booze. [color=#8fbc8f]"Thank you."[/color] She said before dabbing her bare stomach, and then her chest. She felt the bass of the music through the floor and heard it through her hearing aid. Amberle looked up after a fruitless attempt to clear the stain and looked at the man standing in front of her. He was so much taller than her, but he looked down at her sheepishly and she smiled up at him as he complimented her looks. She was not used to this. Were all Americans like this? [color=#8fbc8f]"Well,"[/color] Amberle chucked the dirty napkins into a nearby bin. [color=#8fbc8f]"I wanted to go shopping for new clothes anyways."[/color] a chuckle escaped her coloured lips and she moved the bag with the bottles from her left to her right hand. It was becoming very heavy. [color=#8fbc8f]"It's fine, honestly. Don't worry about it. I'll just drop the alcohol on the table, and then get changed I guess. A messy drunk was not the look I had in mind for myself when meeting all the tenants."[/color] Amberle suppressed her tendency to sign while talking and instead motioned towards the stain in her shirt. [color=#8fbc8f]“I'm Amberle by the way. Amberle de Jong, I'm in 4C.”[/color] She extended her free hand and kept her eyes focused on his lips, to be able to read what he would say. Names are always the most difficult. Felix finally looked up at the sound of her name, smirking before replying with his own, [color=BE4900]“I’m Felix.”[/color] He gave her a delicate handshake, though his calloused hands felt misplaced against her soft skin. [color=BE4900]“Felix Brooks from 3A if you want to be formal, Ms. Amberle de Jong from 4C.”[/color] He gave her a quick wink, while placing his hand back into his pocket. Felix skirted his eyes from hers, looking to the ground instead, [color=BE4900]“Shopping…”[/color] He started, seeming to be at a loss for words. He would blame the intoxication for his lack of composure, but Amberle held such a unique emanation that undoubtedly came over him regardless. [color=BE4900]“Oh! How about this?”[/color] Felix exclaimed, [color=BE4900]“I’ll take you shopping. That way I can feel less shitty about ruining your clothes!”[/color] He was pretty set on his idea, a smooth way to ask someone on a date without calling it a date. [color=BE4900]“Oh, um. Here.”[/color] Felix took off his sweatshirt, his v-neck t-shirt sticking to it as he removed it, flashing a bit of his tanned muscularity—which could now be seen through his t-shirt and not hidden by the bulk of his sweatshirt. He handed her the university sweatshirt, a fresh, cool scent of cologne wafting from it, which could be immediately depicted as nothing less than the expensive selection sold by those high-end brands. A tasteful ratio between musky, earthy, and sweetness could describe the scent, with notes of lemon which could be given from the detergent he uses. [color=BE4900]“So you don’t have to do a walk of shame that’s nobody’s fault but my own.”[/color] Felix smiled, grabbing the bottles from her, [color=BE4900]“I’ll keep these safe until you get back, yeah?”[/color] [color=#8fbc8f][i]Felix..[/i][/color] Amberle mouthed the name and smiled. He had a good name. When he took her hand in his, she felt his rough hands paired with a gentle shake. As with his height, his hands were much larger than hers. It almost felt comical. Amberle tried to follow his lips again as he looked away towards the floor, barely being able to read what he was saying. It felt a bit odd. In front of her was a tall, chiselled man that obviously would have no trouble charming a lady, yet he looked at the ground unable to hold any sort of composure. Despite his appearance, Amberle found this man in front of her endearing. And extremely attractive. She chuckled at his suggestion. [color=#8fbc8f]"Alright, I'll actually take you up on that offer. I just moved here, or well, to America in any case."[/color] Amberle watched as he took off the Silvervale Uni sweater, which made her wonder if he actually goes there. She has the same sweater, but quite some sizes smaller. [color=#8fbc8f]"Thank you so much,"[/color] she said as she took the sweater and quickly put it on after he took her bag from her. Immediately, she could smell the same musky scent that stirred something in her before. The uni sweater was way too large for her, but it hugged her in a way that made her feel safe. The hem of it rested on her hips. [color=#8fbc8f]"I'll be right back, Felix."[/color] Amberle flashed him an alluring smile and turned on her heels back towards the staircase door. [color=BE4900]“Just moved to America!?”[/color] Felix’s eyes widened. [color=BE4900]“You should turn back now while you still can. We Americans suck,”[/color] he ended with a soft chuckle and a wide smile. And as the two parted, he would grab the bag with more firm grasp, flashing a charming smirk before she would turn to leave. By nature, he watched her until she left his line of sight, getting faint pleasure in seeing how baggy his sweatshirt was on her. Felix moved to a nearby table, dropping the bag on top and waited for her return. The young woman dashed back to her apartment and into her room. Still no sign of her roommate. When she entered her room, she momentarily hesitated to take the sweatshirt off. The scent was so marvellous it made her dizzy. A sweet mix of his musk and whisky. She didn't like whisky before, but she sure does now. Her delicate fingers held the fabric up to her nose as she smiled into the sweater. After a moment, she took it off and put it on her bed. She changed into a white, lace crop top. Since the skirt had become dirty too, she stepped out of it and pulled on a tightly fitted denim washed jeans. She notices she cared a little bit more about how she looked now and took a quick glance in the mirror. A rosy blush adorned her cheeks. After putting her phone in the pocket of her pants, she climbed the stairs towards the rooftop again. [/INDENT][/INDENT]