se·cret
/ˈsēkrət/
adjective
not known or seen or not meant to be known or seen by others.
noun
something that is kept or meant to be kept unknown or unseen by others.
de·sire
/dəˈzī(ə)r/
noun
a strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing...
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Third POV
Something within Jeff feels off. Sure, he rarely gets this dangerously drunk- but even so he still has control over his strength. He never feels this sluggish, this feverish. He feels someone's weight against them, the smell of blood & sugary perfume making him gag. He feels them invading his mouth, touching him in places that would earn someone ,other than Eboni, to lose their fingers.
He knows this isn't Eboni. She'd never wear perfume this sugary. She's a fan of fruity, flowery scents like strawberries or lilacs- not cotton candy or vanilla. In fact, those are her two most hated scents. It always makes her gag. So...if this person isn't Eboni, then who the hell is it?
He blinks his eyes, trying to fight the heaviness of his eyelids & dizziness of his sight. Jeff needs to see, he needs to see who'll be getting a knife sliced across their throats. But he can't. So he tries to shove them off, his arms feeling like jello. No....there's no way someone was stupid enough to spike his drink.
Not only would they be in a world of hell the next day, but Slenderman would kill them on the spot. Drugging other proxies is strictly prohibited. So once he feels their soft yet icy hands travel up his hoodie, his jumbled mind is able to piece together who is behind this.
"N...Nina?" He slurs.
"You finally noticed me Jeff. Aahhh, this feels nice right? My hands all over you..."
