In Between Sweater Sleeves

Chapter Eight: Not A Charmer

Chapter Eight: Not A Charmer

I froze, that is the only thing I could do when her soft drunk lips touched mine. It wasn't that I wanted to kiss her (and it wasn't that I didn't want to kiss her either.) It was just the shock of what was happening made me freeze in my spot and want to poop my pants.

Then, her lips glided across mine making fire spiraling through me, and the alcohol on her breath made it to my nose. All I could think about was how wrong this is; there were a thousand and one things wrong with this and suddenly without a thought I stepped away her warm arms, turning my head away.

"Get in the car." I said, looking down.

"Why?" She complained, stomping. "I don't wanna go."

"Misha, get in. You're drunk."

"I don't want to, Danny!"

I sighed, scratching the back of my head. "Misha, don't make this hard. Just get in we're going home."

She stepped up to me, grabbed my face, and kissed me again, not a second later a flash of white hit my eyes. Misha jumped away gasping, and I turned to find the source of the light. The man was already running, sprinting away from us.

"Shit! Since when has there been paparazzi in Charlotte?" I yelled. "Come back!"

I was about to run after him when I realized Misha started to vomit in the bushes.

I groaned, wanting to stomp like Misha had.

I moved some of the lose strands of hair from her face, as she emptied the contents of her stomach into Mother Nature.

She spit out the rest and groaned, cursing. Then, she looked up at me and started to cry. "Gosh, Danny you're such a good friend, even though I don't want you to be."

Drunk people.

I smiled sadly at her. "Thank, don't cry, Misha. Come on, it's time to go home."

She bit her lip, but nodded. "Okay."

We got into the car, and I gave her a trash bag, just in case.

"I ruin everything." She whispered, leaning her head against the window.

"It's okay, you're drunk." I said, driving out of the parking lot.

"No, I always ruin everything. Drunk or sober, angry or happy, I always mess up."

"Everyone's messed up." I whisper, thinking about that night less then a year ago.

"You aren't. You're perfect."

"No one's perfect, especially not me." I whispered.

You're so freaking selfish. You killed him, Danny! Yelled Rose deep in my memory.

"Everything's perfect for you, though."

"No, it's not." I grimaced.

"But you have Bev."

"Yeah?"

"She's perfect."

Come on, Dan. Let's stay. She said. They'll be fine.

"That doesn't make things perfect."

"It hurts Danny." She whispered a tear running down her face.

"What hurts?"

"My heart, it freaking hurts like hell." She cried.

I looked over at her. "Mine too."

"When things start splitting at the seams and now