brash.
-
by the time the rest of them had made it to their next stop—one of the most popular clubs in the south of france—ollie was sure she'd crossed the line of tipsy and went straight into the stage after.
with the alcohol that was already present in her veins, it was hard to wrap her head around the fact that her boyfriend was probably right there watching her yet she couldn't see him due to the lack of a stable light.
trent had stopped drinking at the point when ophelia's tears had started trickling down her cheeks when she realised it was tomorrow she was getting married. both he and ollie agreed that was the most funniest encounter so far of the trip. not only did he halt at that sight, but when he noticed ollie was a sucker for a good club night and she was constantly telling him how she hadn't had one for herself in a while.
so he restrained him an enjoyable experience so she would have someone stable with her. opehlia and lance weren't a pair to put trust in on a night like this.
the young french woman was sure that was a good thing, she would need someone to recall this nights' moments to her in the morning. at the same time, she kind of wished he wasn't sober. the drunk version of ollie wasn't a nice sight and she honestly didn't want trent seeing that side of her.
she didn't want him seeing that side when whenever he would touch her, she would feel her body on fire and she would want to melt to the floor. and most definitely not when he would dip his head lower to ask her if she was enjoying herself or if she was okay, her heart made her chest feel like it was too small and it would beat faster that ever. ollie didn't want him to view her differently from her having the time of her life.
the place is crowded with people. why wouldn't it be full? it was a hot summer night and as well with ollie, they just want to enjoy themselves. the closer she gets to people, the more clouds of perfume, cigarette smoke and beer breath she passes through. the further she went into the choas, the louder the music gets and the harder her heart beats. it's absolutely nerve-wrecking that she's staggering her way through a sea of sweaty bodies, trying to look for a face she knows.
it's hot and humid and ollie could hear her hair frizzing.
moving forward instead of just standing there, swapping in with the rest of people, the chances of finding any who she came with was low. very low. she was shoved back by a couple of uneasy steps, her back meeting the chest of another. it's too cloudly in her brain for her to even look at the person. instead, she continued brushing past dancing bodies, eyes in a search for him.
trent, the man who was currently leaning on the counter of the bar while conversating with an unknown woman.
and when ollie couldn't find him anywhere, she starting cold sweating.
chest heaving up and down and breathing hitched, she stopped dead in the middle of the thumping dance floor when she finally saw him. or rather, them.
whose that? and why is she with him? ollie said to herself in french, not realising the person behind her heard her and asked, "ami ou copain?" friend or boyfriend?
ollie kept her eyes panned on them. she couldn't look away even when the unknown woman leant to whisper something into trent's ear. ollie's insides squeezed.
