This night is going to be a long fucking night.
Vik has already pushed the game too far, and now it's my turn to sit beneath everyone's attention. He has finished his round, but the game is far from over. Now all the attention shifts to me, and I already know he'll enjoy watching me get drunk if he can do it.
I don't need to tell Irin what I want because the one who really wants to get through him is her.
I look at Irin first. "I want Irin to ask the questions for me."
"Hey…" Vik protests.
"She asks, I drink," I explain. "You can change the rules, but I can't?"
"Why? Are you scared?" Irin asks, repeating the same question he asked me.
Then I turn to Tytas. "Can I?" I ask him.
His gaze softens slightly, though he also looks stunned. He licks his lower lip for what feels like the five-hundredth time and leans closer to me.
"Yes, you can," he says gently. I bite my lip, smile slightly, and raise my eyebrow at Vik. He doesn't look pleased. Then Tytas lifts his thumb and wipes the lipstick from the corner of my mouth. "It's messy," he whispers.
"Get a fucking room, you two!" Felicia shouts at us.
I slowly shift my gaze toward them while we wait for the servants to bring Vik another ten shots.
"You can drink with me," I say. Everyone looks at me in confusion, especially the couple sitting across from me. "One of us has to drink in each round anyway. We can share," I say while looking at Vik.
His smile grows even fucking wider. He can't control his expression anymore. "Whatever you say, Princess," Vik says, glancing at Tytas.
Felicia looks increasingly annoyed.
"First question—" Irin says. She looks directly into Vik's eyes and smiles teasingly.
"Have you ever killed someone?"
"What?" He looks shocked, then laughs.
Everyone laughs along with him, but the sound gradually fades as they wait for his answer. "No," he says.
I take the shot, drink the clear liquid, and place the glass on the table.
Fuck, it's strong.
"Are you planning to marry Felicia?" Irin asks.
The question makes everyone hide their smiles and glance at the two of them.
Felicia looks at Vik as well, blushing while she waits for his answer.
But his response is a long breath.
"We're still young, Irin," he says, then pauses. "Young and free. Enjoy life. You should try it. Stop being so serious about everything. The wrinkles are calling you, Meride."
Vik uses Irin's last name.
"So, no?" Irin glares at him, visibly upset.
He says nothing and doesn't deny it.
"I'll take that as a no," I say before taking the shot.
"Argh—" Felicia glares at me. Her eyes could cut me in pieces.
"Next question," Irin says, glaring at Felicia. "I hope you play fair and square. When you kiss Felicia, have you ever thought about someone else?"
"What the fuck?" Felicia yells at Irin.
Then she turns toward Vik, looking even more upset.
Irin smiles and giggles happily beside me as Vik decides whether to make me drink or drink himself. He gives me a small smirk.
"Yes," he says.
"WOOO—" the audience howls as if the full moon has risen.
Felicia begins to stand, but Vik catches her hand, pulls her back, wraps an arm around her waist, and whispers something to her.
I don't know what he tells her, but I bet it's a shortened excuse or explanation—just enough to make her stay, almost sitting on his lap.
Her face is still at the third level of anger.
"Drink, little Ice Princess," he says.
I raise my right eyebrow and take another shot.
"Is Tytas your ride-or-die friend?" Irin asks.
Vik pauses. Either the dizziness hits him, or the question does. "Yes," he says.
I take another shot.
"And the same question—are you his ride-or-die?" Irin asks.
"Hmph—yes." He clenches his teeth and looks at me.
I down the glass and close my eyes after swallowing.
"Halfway there, Princess," he says. "You're good at this." He rests his face against Felicia's shoulder.
Irin moves to the edge of the sofa and leans forward.
I smirk slightly when I notice her behavior. I can't stop smiling as I glance at Vik, who is staring at me even though his girlfriend's face is right beside his.
Tytas raises his hand behind my back to support me and brings his face closer.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asks softly.
I turn toward him with a tiny smile. I look at his lips and then his eyes. My vision is starting to blur slightly. I slowly raise my hand and touch his face.
He looks stunned.
"Have you two ever loved the same girl?" Irin interrupts.
I slowly turn toward Vik. He looks at me in shock and chuckles to himself. The question hits him again, and perhaps Tytas as well. Vik removes his hands from Felicia, looks at the shot, and glances back at me.
I feel something in his eyes, along with the hot breath of the man beside me.
Vik leans forward, takes the shot, and downs it.
Irin curls her lips into a smile and glances at me.
"You keep bothering my friend every time you see her. Is it because you're secretly in love with her?" Irin fires another question.
Everyone falls silent and looks at Irin. So do I.
Felicia and Vik glare at her with deep, stern expressions.
Irin smiles—vicious and sneaky. "My friend is Zia, by the way," she adds.
Now everyone turns toward me, but Tytas is the only one still looking at Vik. He holds my waist properly this time. Vik shifts slightly away from Felicia, drags the shot glass toward himself, and drinks it.
"Fuckkk—" one of his friends curses.
The other immediately covers his mouth.
No answer is always a yes answer—or simply a secret he wants to swallow now and barf out in the morning.
Irin rests her chin in her palm. "Well, the girl you don't want to name—is it Zia?"
"Heh, I know you're planning something," Vik says, chuckling as he glares at Irin. His expression turns unpleasant, and his eyes become wary, as if something is twisting his stomach—either the alcohol or Irin's questions.
I push the shot glass toward him and stop it in front of his eyes. He looks at me.
"Is it me?" I ask.
I wait, staring at him, expecting something to come out of his mouth—a green stream of puke or an answer. I don't care which.
But I see something in his eyes. He has already answered me, yet it's hard to believe it's true because it isn't that simple.
Then he slowly reaches for the shot glass. His fingertips almost touch mine. I pull my hand away. He gulps and smirks before drinking the shot.
I lean back against the backrest beside Irin, watching Vik's eyes begin to close. He chuckles, and his body finally falls to the floor. I sigh heavily as Irin laughs uncontrollably.
My head feels heavy. I'm about to lean back, but Tytas catches and supports my head first.
"I think it's time to go," Irin says.
-EXTRA-
After Tytas drops Irin off, he drives straight to my house. He stops the car and slowly looks at me. Then he gets out, walks around to my door, and opens it for me. He leans down, bends toward me, and holds my hand with one hand while the other grabs my waist and helps me up. I let him do it willingly, though I'm confused.
"I can still walk, you know." I smile with a tiny chuckle.
"You can barely stand, Zia," he says, holding my waist as he walks me to the door.
"You called me Zia again—"
He looks at me and holds my waist tighter. We stop at the door, and I'm about to enter the digits. He leans his face closer to the side, his mouth just above my ear.
"Is it true?" he asks softly. "Everything you said?"
"Yes." I look at him. His lips almost touch my forehead as I turn to face him. I try to press the digits on the keypad to my left. "What about the last question?" he asks.
My finger pauses. The last question?
"Vik?" I say his name. He holds my face, making me look at him. "I just wanted him to shut up…" I try to enter the passcode again. If I get it wrong more than three times, I'll be locked out. "Are you upset?" I ask.
"Yes," he says.
"I couldn't say 'you,'" I explain. I'm about to press the keypad again. "I would have said you if it weren't for Vi—" I lower my voice, and he stops my hand.
"Tell me," he says softly, holding my hand. I can feel his breath against my hair and ear. "Your passcode," he says, moving his hand from my fingers to my cheek. "You'll sleep on the front porch if you keep entering it wrong." He holds my face and makes me look at him.
My passcode.
What is my passcode?
That tequila ruined my memory.
"One… two…" I say.
He smiles slowly and rubs my cheek. "You are so—"
Then he leans closer. His nose touches my cheek before his lips meet mine. He holds my face and waist firmly, but gently enough to let me feel free, and kisses me more deeply, sliding his tongue into my mouth.
"Ha…" He gasps for breath and looks at me.
Then he pushes my body against the door and kisses me intensely, passionately, as if he's been waiting for this all night.
"Ha…" I gasp this time, gripping his shirt tightly.
He continues kissing my lips, my tongue, my lower lip—every part of my mouth, almost down to my chin. His hand glides from my waist over my hip and thigh.
He's probably been waiting for this for a long time.
"Ah—Ty—tas." I pull my lips away.
He presses his lips against mine once more, then stops. He lowers his head and buries his face in my neck. "I'm sorry," he says.
"It's…" I whisper as his lips lightly touch my neck. "One… five… ha." He kisses my neck. "Seven… six," I say.
"…All right." He enters the digits for me while his other hand holds my waist against his body, my back pressed against the door.
Click. The door opens.
He looks at me, his gaze fixed on mine.
"I really like you, Zia," he says. "I know you're drunk right now. You'll probably forget tomorrow. But even if you forget… I'll come to you and say it again."
I look into his bright green eyes, glittering beneath the night sky. My vision is a little blurry, but he's so handsome.
"Will you go out with me?" he asks.
I hold my tongue because I don't know whether I'm as into him as he is into me.
"I'll ask you again," he says, rubbing my hot cheek. "I'll text you. You need to text me back… Please, text me back."
He repeats it as if he's begging me.
"I will," I reply.
It's hot. The temperature in my room makes me struggle beneath the soft, knitted blanket. One leg underneath it is hotter than the other, which is exposed to the cold air outside.
I feel tingling, coldness, and the breeze together against my leg. Then an electric shock runs from my foot beneath my skin.
"Umm…" I make a sound and quickly jerk myself upright. I blink, and a shadowy figure stands at the foot of my bed.
What the heck is that?
I glare at it, trying to see whether it's moving or if it's only my shadow—or a plushie on my bed.
Fuck.
"Huh—"
I quickly turn on the lamp beside me. I look again, but there's nothing there.
"Ah, too bright," I mumble.
I look at my legs, which are still covered by the stockings. That's why they're tingling so much. I pull the stockings off both legs and drop them onto the floor, leaving my black lace panties on. Then I pull the blanket over myself and turn off the light.
It's probably because my head is dizzy.
It hurts.