Just Two Weeks || Sebastian Stan x Reader

Day 1

The music is loud around you and you've been stood at the bar now for way too long, waiting for someone to make eye contact with you. You're tapping your card impatiently on the wood, on the verge of walking away and trying again later.

You notice a man squeeze in beside you, leather jacket rubbing against your arm. He flashes his card at one of the girls and she almost comes running towards him to take his order.

"You're taking the piss now." You mutter, but loud enough so he hears you. He turns to look at you after he's ordered.

"Oh shit, sorry. Were you here before me?"

You don't look at him, your eyes are busy scanning the dozen people behind the bar. Wondering if it would help to show some cleavage like some of the other girls or wear a jacket a few sizes too small for your arms like he did.

"About ten minutes before, yeah."

"What are you drinking?" He asks, searching for your eyes as he uses his back to block out the people shouting for attention behind him.

"Anything at this point." You say.

"What sorry?" The music's too loud to be heard as it drops into the chorus. His face is close to yours now, ear pointed towards your mouth as his breath tickles the back of your neck.

"I said, anything at this rate!"

"Okay, then!" He has a smile that curls up at the edges and slightly wrinkles his eyes. The woman is back now with a glass of whiskey for him. "She'll take two double vodkas and I'll have another whiskey. I'll take it however, thanks."

"Vodka lemonades, please." You correct him, already dreading the taste of it in your mouth. "You didn't have to." You shout slightly, keeping your card out just in case.

"No point wasting your evening at the bar when you could be dancing."

You're wearing converse, a fitting but flowing dress that reaches the top of your knees and a denim jacket. It's what you've been wearing all day but, in your defence, you were forced out by your friends. The shoes make it easier to navigate the swarms of people showing off their best moves so you can see why he'd think that's what you'd rather be doing with your time.

It's not. Anything but. You don't say that though as he watches you.

"I think I'd rather be at a karaoke." Your mouth is close to his ear now and you can smell him.

"Karaoke?" He echoes as your drinks arrive.

"Yeah! Not very good at that either, but better than my dancing."

"Do you know somewhere that does karaoke?" He turns away for a second, tapping his card on the reader before sliding it back into his wallet.

"Yes! The George!"

"Do you wanna go?"

You both grab your drinks now, the ice already melting in yours and diluting the alcohol. Free alcohol, but alcohol nonetheless.

"You and me?" You sip your drink, glad you added the lemonade to sweeten the bitterness of the vodka.

"Yeah! I'm not that good a dancer, either. You can bring your friends if you want."

You try looking for them in the crowds but they're long gone. Finding boys or taking selfies in the toilet.

"They prefer dancing!"

The two of you edge away from the bar now, people filling the gap you leave in an instant. Yes, they probably would jump in your grave that quickly, too.