𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃, chris sturniolo

028.

"I'm gonna go dance! Are you going to be okay right here?" Kendall yells over the booming music. Bianca only nods whilst sending a thumbs up as she grabs a red solo cup, pouring Pepsi into it and chugging it to dismiss the unpleasant flavor that lingers in her mouth. She sways her hips to the rhythm of the music as she takes more sips of her soda whilst her eyes scan the spacious room filled with guests.

Because she is the only one in the kitchen now, Bianca lines up three shot cups in front of her and pours Fireball into each of them. Without a second thought, she downs one shot at a time and not thinking about how awful it tastes. She wipes the side of her mouth after finishing the last shot. Her vision is a lot fuzzier than earlier. Why wouldn't it be? She now has six shots of whisky in her system and it is hitting her rather quickly.

Swaying her hips to the music once more, Bianca enjoys her alone time in the kitchen. Though, her phone vibrating in her hand made her jump slightly, not expecting a notification to come through because no one really texts her. With squinted eyes to focus her vision on the bright screen in front of her, she reads the message she just received as best as she could. Her eyebrows shoot up at the name flashed across the screen.

Chris: You look nice.

Bianca's eyes wander around the room, pivoting herself in all directions to do a 360 turn just to spot him. Though, she was unsuccessful. She returns her sight to the living room, the once crowded room now filled with fewer people. Straight ahead is Chris staring right at her, a smirk painted on his face with a joint in between his fingers. In a dark-grey hoodie that seems to be a size bigger, a pair of black sweatpants with white graffiti-like writing on it for some design, Chris sits comfortably on the couch. Even in such a simple outfit, Bianca could never help but be lost for words. She almost did not notice the black beanie atop his head because of the dark lighting-his hair peeking on either side. He looks more like a hockey boy right now, but Bianca is not complaining. He looks good. Too good.

The brunette's mouth runs dry the longer she stares at Chris from across the room. He looks good even if he is just sitting down, doing nothing. Wrong. He is smoking and Bianca cannot help but think he looks good doing that.

I need another shot.

Listening to the voice in her head, Bianca turns around to pour herself a much-needed shot. Pinching her eyes shut, she tosses her head back as she swallows it down whilst the familiar shiver runs down her spine. The girl battles the temptation to pivot to take a glimpse of him again, finding the urge rather difficult.

Just one peek. Just one.

Right as she turns around, a hand snakes to her waist whilst a familiar silhouette now stands in front of her, just inches away as he towers over her. Bianca glances up, gulping when she makes contact with his blue eyes. The rate of her heart seems to quicken-it was never like this before.

"Hi," Bianca whispers, her eyes diverting to the ground, finding interest in her heels to avoid his intense stare.

"How's it goin'?" Chris smirks. He squeezes the exposed skin at the curve of her waist a few times-a habit of his that he acquired.

"Good," the brunette chirps, her voice sounding much smaller than usual. "Do you want a shot? I need a shot."

Chris chuckles at her drunkenness and slurred words, though he shakes his head side to side slightly. "I don't drink, sunshine, but thanks." He takes another drag of his lit joint, Bianca watching as his cheeks hollow in as he does so. Staring at his lips, Bianca's mind reminisces back to their first kiss and the way it felt. She remembers the silence that surrounded them despite the music that could be heard miles away.