The Only Exception | W2S

TWENTY(!).

"How are you not even reacting to the amount of alcohol in that?" I demand, reluctantly feeling very impressed by the man sat across from me. 

He shrugs. "Just natural aura, I suppose," he says sarcastically, and I shoot him a disgusted look.

"Please never say that in front of me again."

"I quit," Harry announces, just under two hours later, and after too many Maradonna Spritz's. 

They were the words I'd been waiting for. "Ha!" I shout, my chair scraping against the floor as I jump up. "Haha! I won! I fucking won!" I say, my speech slightly slurred, although everything felt quite dizzy, and I had to hold onto the table to stop myself from toppling over. 

"Only because you're gonna die if you continue," he says, and he looks equally as drunk as I feel, a lopsided smile plastered on his face. 

"Nah, never me. I'm immortal," I declare, beating my chest. "Where's the camera?"I demand, looking around, before finally locating it on the table. "Hello, Sidemen channel! I am hereby announcing that I...Holly, uh - what's my surname - ah, yes, Holly Peterson, have won this channel. No, challenge. I don't know. Long live Maradonna Spritz's," I say gleefully, before Harry gently takes the camera from my hands, and turns it off. 

"Wanna walk back? The villa isn't far from here. It also might sober us up a little bit," Harry suggests, and there's nothing I love more than a drunk walk. 

I nod my head, feeling a little more unstable than I initially thought, and so I tried to become hyper aware of my surroundings. 

But with that, came being hyper aware of my thoughts and feelings, too. And with the alcohol in my system, it didn't mix well. 

The air was still warm outside, although the skies were dark. 

"You okay?" Harry asked, all three camera packed safely in the bag Kon had left us, which hung loosely on Harry's shoulder. 

"Concentrating," I mumble, looking at my feet on the floor. 

Without asking, he looped an arm around my own, allowing me to lean on him a little, just to steady myself. 

"Thanks," I smile, as we walk down the cobbled street, which was pretty much empty.

"Ten Maradonna Spritz's, I don't know how you haven't given yourself alcohol poisoning," Harry mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"Hey! You had ten too...well, nine and a half," I correct myself, leaning on Harry for some extra support. 

"Woah...are you okay?" He asked again, coming to a stop. 

"I, uh...no. The cobbles are fucking me up," I admit truthfully. 

"Hop on," he said casually, turning around and crouching down. 

"You want me to get on your back?" I ask, breaking out into laughter. It was absolutely absurd, but my drunk mind was completely on board with the idea. 

"Yeah, come on. It'll be faster to get back to the villa."

I gasp. "Are you...are you calling me slow?" I ask, in mock outrage. 

I can hear him laugh from his position. "Never. Get on, Hols," he says again. 

I know it's an awful idea. It's crossing a line I promised myself I wouldn't cross. But he's in front of me, offering to help, and I just...I can't say no. I don't want to say no. 

"If you insist," I say happily, jumping onto his back, and immediately his arms are gripping me, hosting me up, where my arms hang around his neck. 

"Are you comfortable?" He asks, before moving forward.