Chase You

33; soirée

We crossed the road at the pelican crossing, and queued up. It wasn't a long queue, so it wasn't too bad, I guess the only annoying thing about it was the posh fucks that surrounded me.

Perhaps I shouldn't be so mean.

"So this place is a soirée. Ever heard of one?"

"Not really."

"It's a gathering, only for alumni, future and current students."

"You got into Oxford?" I screamed. I should feel bad for screaming at him, because all of the eyes were on us now and I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole.

Ben grinned at me, surprisingly speechless. He nodded instead, and I attacked him into a huge bear hug. "I'm so happy."

I clung to his neck for dear life, even when he tried to pull me off him. I was over the fact that people were watching, because all I cared about right at this moment was Ben. I don't know what I'd do if I had to go to university without him. It might just be that I'd drop out again.

"You kinda need to let go now." He grumbled.

"No." I grinned, squeezing him tightly.

"Yes, get off." He managed to pull apart my arms and then looked around suspiciously before straightening out his suit and grabbing my hand.

"Names?" The doorman asked.

"Flynn Hopper and Benjamin Matthews." Ben told the man, who lifted up his checklist and whistled to himself.

He did a little scribble next to our names and let us through. Ben didn't let go of my hand as we walked through the crowd of people standing around with champagne in their hands. I can't tell if he was holding my hand just because I wanted him to, given the situation from earlier in the queue, I just wasn't sure if holding hands in front of so many people would make him uncomfortable.

Decided I might just overthink into abyss, I let go, cleared my throat and stopped the waiter walking around with a tray of champagne. I grabbed two flutes, and handed one to Ben but he looked at me quizzically.

"You're on lithium."

"I can have one." I stuck my tongue out at him and he just rolled his eyes. Grinning, I continued on walking and he placed his hand on my lower back.

"Over there," he pointed to an old man across the room, "is the chancellor."

"Oh yeah?"

"We're going to talk to him."

"What the- no, we aren't! I'm not prepared! What do I talk to him about?"

"He's a chill guy-"

"No he isn't, he's the chancellor of fucking Oxford." I bit, stiffening at the thought of talking to him with no pre-planned conversation tips.

Ben just cheekily grinned at me, biting his lip in the process and showing off those pearly whites. It was as if he was trying to keep himself from smiling but failed to do so. All of a sudden, I felt him force me to walk forward by pushing his hand that was on my lower back.