the balcony ••• awsten knight

seven

"What're you talking about?" Emily asks, not bothering to look back at him this time.

"You seem like something drove you out of there and you lit that up pretty quickly," Awsten elaborates. "Just seems like something might've triggered that—"

"It's none of your fucking business, okay?" Emily snaps, abruptly cutting him off.

Awsten hesitates, cautiously. "Okay," he responds, simply, despite the way his teeth are gritted at her harsh tone.

Emily lets out a long, deep sigh, as if she's been holding her breath all day; she exhales until she feels her shoulders relaxing and she lowers herself to sit on the ground.

She props her elbows up on her knees and hangs her head low. Awsten notices the way her eyebrows knit together as she squeezes her eyes shut and takes another deep breath.

"I didn't mean that," Emily mumbles, barely audibly. "Well, I did. But, I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

Awsten hesitates for a moment, before stepping towards her and cautiously sitting down beside her.

He doesn't say anything and they're not close enough to touch, but he's close enough that Emily can feel his presence beside her— she doesn't loathe it the way that she thought she might, but she can't quite but her finger on how she does feel about it.

He watches her as she takes the last toke of her cigarette, before she presses her lips together and puts it out.

"It's been two years since—" Emily stops herself before more words can pour out of her. "Nevermind."

"What?" Awsten presses, ducking his head in an attempt to read her expression.

"Nothing," Emily shakes her head before looking to him, noticing the way his eyebrow is raised. "I said nothing," she reiterates, before pushing herself off of the ground quickly.

She wobbles as she stands and Awsten leaps up to catch her again, mostly out of instinct. One hand grips her bicep, steadily, and the other slides down her forearm to catch her hand.

Both of them freeze at the contact. Emily looks down at Awsten's hand on her's, momentarily bewildered, then lifts her eyes up to his, finding that he looks just as shocked as she does.

Emily snatches her hand away and Awsten retreats his grip gladly, before they both head inside, wordlessly.

Approaching the bar, Emily finds her previous drink in the same place she'd left it. Thoughtlessly, she reaches for it, and is only stopped when a hand pulls it away from her.

"You can't drink that," Awsten's voice sounds sternly from behind her. She swallows thickly at his firm tone, quickly shaking off the few goosebumps that had risen on her arms— she'll blame that on the alcohol she's consumed.

A frown soon takes over her face and she whips around to face him. "Don't tell me what to do," Emily scowls back and Awsten rolls his eyes.

"I'm serious, Emily," he deadpans. "You left it unattended. That's dangerous as fuck," Awsten tells her, holding her gaze— he didn't realise how closely they were stood. "Someone could've spiked it." He knows they weren't gone long, and it probably seems dramatic to her, but there's a group of guys that Awsten decides are dodgy-looking enough to be suspicious of.

"It's practically full," Emily protests. "I'll just have to buy another," she adds, clearly unimpressed by the idea, glancing at the drink that Awsten is sliding further away from her, firmly out of reach.

"I think you've had enough," he says, sternly.

"Since when are you the boss of me?" Emily crosses her arms over her chest, pouting stubbornly.

Awsten can't help an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Emily, you—"

"Are you laughing at me?" She cuts him off, as he attempts to wipe away his smirk.

"I'm not laughing at you," Awsten attempts a flattened expression. "I'm—"

"You are!" Emily combats. "And you just denied it so that means you lied and that makes you a liar. That's double-bad."

"Double-bad?" He echoes, unable to stop the smile this time.

"Yes. Double-bad," she stands firm, scowling. She's aware that the alcohol in her system likely isn't doing her any good in this situation.

Attempting to shake off the little pleasure that he's getting from the state that Emily is in, Awsten sighs. "Where are you staying?"

"Why is that your business?" Emily frowns, still closed-off to him.

"Because I don't think you should go home by yourself," he reasons with her.

Despite Emily's efforts to uphold a stoic expression, a snort escapes her. "That sounds pretty suggestive."

Awsten's initial response is to call her out on how stupid it is of her to say that, but he notices the amused smile gracing her features as she plops herself down onto the bar stool.

He exhales, shaking his head and admits defeat with a brief chuckle.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," he retorts, lightheartedly.

"I know. But, it was funny," Emily murmurs, with a shrug.

She lets out a breath, slouching in her seat and leaning forward against the bar, opening her mouth to speak but Awsten stops her.

"Don't order another drink," he cuts in.

Emily turns to him, raising a challenging eyebrow.

"I was actually going to get a water," she replies, pursing her lips together in a way that reads shut up, I can handle myself.

Usually, with most people in his life, he doesn't trust that they could take care of themselves in their drunken state— especially when it comes to his girlfriend— but Emily always seems to have this bite to her that leads him to believe that, maybe, she actually can. Still, that doesn't mean he wants to bare witness to finding out if he's wrong.

Emily orders a large glass of water and finds herself realising that she's pretty thirsty when the bartender slides it in front of her.

She attempts gulping the whole glass down quickly, but Awsten places a gentle hand on her forearm to catch her attention.

"Slow down," he instructs— though, his soft tone makes it seem less like an instruction. If it had sounded more like an instruction, or an order, she would've felt more inclined to tell him exactly where to shove it. She wishes he sounded harsher— it would've been easier to be angry at him.

Instead, he guides her hand to set the now half-empty glass down on the surface of the bar.

Awsten raises an eyebrow at her, to which she quickly looks away. Emily takes a deep breath before she continues drinking her water, with much slower sips this time.

"Ready?" Awsten asks, only speaking up once she'd finished her water.

Emily hesitates for a beat, blinking blankly at him for a moment.

"For what?"

The confusion between them is shared when Awsten looks back at her oddly, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "To go home," he states. "Remember? I asked where you're staying and you said it was none of my business and— it was a whole thing."

It's patronising, really, the way he re-tells it, as if Emily herself wasn't a part of the exchange, but with the briefly charming smile that he directs her way, the most that she can counter with is an eye roll, before twisting her body away from the bar and pushing herself off of her stool.

"I'll take that as a yes," Awsten mutters, trailing after her as she heads for the exit.

***