eight ~ intoxication

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eight ~ intoxication

**Dedicated to 5swift for leaving so many lovely comments!**

Armed with a bottle of Pinot Grigio—it wasn't chilled but I was beyond caring—I headed down to the beach. It was deadly silent, with the sound of the rolling waves being the only noise. The lights from the house didn't reach this far and after a few metres of stumbling through the sand, I found myself having to use the flash on my phone's camera as a makeshift torch. 

I wasn't stupid enough to go near the water's edge, despite being drunk, and so I plopped myself down on the beach at the foot of the lifeguard's chair, leaning back against its wooden legs for support. Sighing to myself, I unscrewed the lid from the bottle and then took two large gulps. My head spun as I tilted it back to rest against the chair, closing my eyes as I did so, while my left hand continued to grip the bottle with purpose, unwilling to risk it toppling over and spilling onto the sand.

I wasn't usually one for getting absolutely wasted—and I never did it alone—but tonight I felt like escaping. My mind was swimming with troublesome thoughts involving Alastair, Daisy, my family, and not to mention feeling utterly trapped out here with just one friend. A small twisted smile made its way onto my lips as I imagined my mum's reaction to seeing me swigging good quality wine straight from the bottle; she'd probably pass out. 

Come to think of it, Mum would probably pass out at a lot of the stuff I got up to when her back was turned. My friends and I were the perfect, classy socialites when we were out and about, but once we headed back for an after party...it was a whole other story. We'd go from drinking out of hand-blown cocktail glasses, to drinking straight from the neck of the bottle, passing it around as we all got drunker and drunker. We'd go from little interaction with boys, to inviting the whole male friendship group round. 

I remembered one particular occasion earlier this year, after Daisy had turned eighteen, when we'd all left a swanky cocktail bar in Chelsea and headed back to her place. Her parents had been attending a black-tie event elsewhere and so we'd had the house to ourselves. Straight away, we'd invited the boys over and they'd turned up with bottles of wine and champagne. The girls watched in amusement as the boys had a few drinking competitions to get to our level of intoxication. I was proud to see Alastair down his bottle of wine quicker than the others, and without throwing up. It was one of the things I loved and admired most about him; like me, he could have fun but he never embarrassed himself in the process. 

As everyone reached similar levels of drunk, inhibitions began to lower and the usual scandalous activities began. It started with harmless kissing as various friends paired up, but the consumption of wine never ceased and soon couples began to disappear into spare rooms to take their flirtations to a more intimate level. I remained perched on Alastair's knee as we laughed and kissed in the living room; every now and then, his hands would start to wander. It began innocently enough, with just a slight caress of my back underneath my silk top, but then he began to push the boundaries by carefully sliding a hand over my stomach or up my skirt. 

"Behave." I smiled against his mouth. 

He nibbled my lip as he smiled back. "Oh, Rosa, believe me, I am behaving."

Across the room, Daisy was making out furiously with Oliver, and their hands were indicating a complete lack of modesty. Daisy had always been the wild one, though. When I'd found out about her and Alastair's night together, that had been the first thing I'd thought: she was more adventurous than me. Although mine and Alastair's sex life was pretty good, I'd automatically assumed that he'd been attracted to Daisy's carefree attitude—the perfect lady in public but the ultimate animal in bed—and been tempted by the idea that she could offer him something I couldn't. 

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