✔︎ 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗠𝗲

𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗼𝘅𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱

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The car comes to a stop, following with Willow's body jolting itself awake. "Where are we?"

"Dinner time." Scott point at a fluorescent bar sign while grabbing his wallet. "It's the middle of the night so it looks like our dinner is gonna be bar food."

She rolls her eyes and jumps out of the car, her legs wobbly from not moving for so long. Her first few steps towards the bar are stiff and uncomfortable, but It is a feeling she has gotten all too familiar with during this car ride. She is not excited for her meal to be the snacks that they serve at a bar, but it is better than nothing.

Scott walks in the door, and doesn't bother holding it open for the girl following him. She steps inside of the dark and loud sweat dungeon, quickly making her realize that they are now in Arkansas.

A stool is pulled out from under the bar and finger points towards it. "You're sitting next to me. I doubt half of these men care that you're.." Scott leans towards Willow and whispers, "not of legal drinking age."

She sits down and orders a drink and downs it, before promptly ordering another, despite Scott's glares of disappointment. If she has to deal with being around Scott for this long, she might as well get some drinks out of it. Every shot she takes nearly makes her upchuck the almonds that she has been eating along side the drinks as a 'meal'. Turns out, some bars only offer light snacks, this one being one of them.

Scott stays silent besides her, munching down on a bowl of pretzels that one of the bartenders placed in front of him.

After about 5 consecutive shots, Willow finds herself suddenly becoming fond of the previously annoying boy besides her. "Let's play some pool!" She grabs onto his hand and stumbles over to the empty pool table.

She grabs a cue stick and starts wildly swinging it around the place, nearly taking out one of Scott's teeth. The boy starts laughing, unable to hide his amusement at the person before him. He had never seen Willow drunk, and it was a new sight to him. The normally opinionated and pessimistic girl, has turned into a bubbly optimist.

"Come on!" She tosses one of the cue sticks to Scott, and he grabs it out of the air while. Knowing she wasn't going to stop asking until they played, Scott pulls back the stick and hits the cue ball. Without realizing his strength, one of the balls head straight towards Willow, who is crouched down with her eyes at the same level of the pool table, watching Scott play. The ball goes over the lip of the table and makes impact with her nose. She flies backwards, landing on an old wooden chair, breaking it in the process.

"Ohhhh!" A few gasps are heard among the people inside the bar, and Scott starts running towards the floor bound girl. He stands over her, and is shocked to see blood seeping onto the teeth of Willow, who was audibly laughing, open mouthed. The alcohol took away the pain of the hit, and left her with the comedy of the fall.

Scott can't help but bust out laughing as well, watching her lay on top of a broken chair, rolling over from the lack of breath. She finally lets out a deep inhale after holding her breath while laughing, "That was so fun!" Scott grabs onto her hand and pulls her up, hoping that her nose isn't broken.

Willow begins to take a step, but quickly realizes that her steady footing has now disappeared, and she can't walk without losing her balance. She starts making her way back to the ground, but is pulled back up by Scott, who hasn't let go of her arm since helping her up. "Why don't we go sit down?"

"Noo!" Willow tries to wiggle her arm free, only making Scott tighten his grip. "Let go!"

Scott shushes her and pulls her back to the seats that they were previously sat at. "Just drink some water. I don't want you to end up in a ditch."

"You did when Monroe took me." She turns her head and looks at him, her face emotionless for a minute before bursting out laughing. Scott does the same, "Yeah, I really did."

"You did! You really did!" She repeats, laughing even harder than before, and throwing her arms out, hitting Scott on the shoulder. "You're so funny."

Scott stops laughing and thinks for a second, before nodding his head. "I figured it out. You have to get drunk to tolerate me." He softly smiles at the inebriated girl in front of him.

"So true." She agrees, about to let out another laugh before widening her eyes and turning away from Scott. He jumps back as she pukes all over the bar floor, some of it splashing up on her shoes. She starts mumbling how sorry she is for ruining the floor as Scott jumps over the puddle and drags her outside.

"We need to leave before the workers see that."

"Oh." She looks over to a trash can and starts stumbling her way towards it. Scott catches on and follows her, sliding his hands against the back of her neck and taking a hold of her hair, moving it away from her face. He grimaces as she loudly rids her stomach of the vodka she had downed.

"That was gross." She slurs, stumbling her way back to the car.

Scott starts helping her in the car, and she throws her arms around him, embracing in a hug. "You're so nice." he prys her arms off of him and sets her in the passenger seat, placing a grocery bag on her lap.

He climbs into the drivers seat and starts the car, moving it to another parking lot this isn't outside of the establishment that Willow just vomited in. He looks over to her as she lets out a loud sigh.

"What are we doing, Scott?" She looks to him, waiting for an answer.

"What do you mean?" He asks while parking the car outside of a grocery store.

"Stiles could be dead, and we were just laughing it off inside of a bar." She leans her head against the edge of the seat, facing it in Scott's direction.

"Gotta keep positive." He reaches for this other hand and begins cracking his knuckles.

"I don't need to be a werewolf to know you're lying." Willow has always been good at being able to detect a lie. Even though Scott has learned how to stop his heart from beating faster when he lies, he still has a tell. He always nervously cracks his knuckles when he lies.

"I don't wanna think about my best friend being dead, that's why."

"Neither do I, but look where that got us." She looks at the grocery bag thats on her lap, ready to catch her vomit at any given time.

Scott remains silent, doing nothing other than stare at Willow, watching as her hair falls in front of her eyes. She doesn't push it away from her face, and lets it hang there, her vision already blurred as it is.

"I wont remember any of this in the morning, will I?" she asks, cracking a small smile.

"Probably not. Why do you think I'm being so nice?" Scott responds before grabbing a rubber band out of the center console and messily tying Willow's hair up.

"I don't wanna have to hold it anymore. If you're gonna puke, don't wake me." He says while putting laying back in his seat and putting a baseball cap over his eyes.

"Copy."

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