i like (the idea of) you • grayson dolan

four

I don't know what Ethan put in my drink, but it hits. Hard. Not to mention, I was for sure a lightweight.

My vision is blurry, I'm feeling warm and tired, but also... good. Maybe I like this.

Grinning, I find myself talking to people from school in the kitchen. Some people I haven't spoken to since grade school.

Our promised half hour is surely up by now, but Celia is getting somewhere with Julie, and I'm having fun, so neither of us rush to leave. In fact, I wouldn't want to leave at this point anyway.

A couple of people are doing body shots, one of the guys asking me if I want to participate.

"Woah, woah, woah," Ethan says, jogging into the kitchen. "She's all set, guys. I think what she really needs is water."

"Ethan!" I grin, leaning into him. "I was just about t—" hiccuping, I cut myself off. Ethan leads me away before I can finish telling him. "Where are we going?"

"Outside, it's a little quieter," he chuckles. "I underestimated how much of a lightweight you'd be. Drink this."

I scrunch up my nose, pushing the drink away. "Last time you gave me a drink it was gross."

"It's water, Opal," as we step out the back door, I see Grayson sitting by the fire talking to some friends.

The light is reflecting off of his face, illuminating his smile in the dark as he laughs at something that was said. He looks relaxed right now.

His hair bounces slightly with each movement, eyes crinkling from his smile—it's probably the least intimidating he's ever looked.

"Mm-mm. I think I'm just gonna go," shaking my head, I duck under Ethan's arm and head back inside, losing him in the crowd before he can even react to me leaving.

I really didn't want to see Grayson. Childish, yes, but he got on my nerves and who knows what I'd say to him while drunk.

Maybe he deserves to be yelled at. It's not a bad plan, though I've already ditched Ethan so I'll reconsider it later.

Ethan had the right idea. I did need to loosen up, to have some fun.

After a bit of dancing, and checking in with Celia, I find myself sitting on the couch. I'm suddenly realizing just how exhausted I am. It's getting pretty late now—there's no harm in closing my eyes for a few minutes.

I'm not sure how long I'm out for, though when I wake up it's to the feeling of someone's body weight leaning against mine. There are lips pressed to my neck.

"Hey," I cough, attempting to push him off. "What are you doing?"

"Shhh, it's fine," he whispers. "Just relax."

Sobering up slightly, my eyes open wide. "N-no, get off of me," pushing him again, he doesn't budge.

There were people just a few feet away, though through the music no one even heard me. His hands on me feel disgusting, callouses scraping my skin. I go to yell again, louder this time in hopes someone will notice and help.

"Hey! Get the fuck off of her!"

The man, who I don't recognize, stumbles backward as Grayson shoves him away. I've never been happier to see his face before.

He holds his hands up, stuttering out an apology, the people nearby turning to watch at the commotion. None of them even noticed before, despite being mere feet away. Grayson swings his arm, punching the guy right in the jaw.

"Get the fuck out before I call the cops," he spits, shaking his hand out before turning back to me. "Jeez, Opal. I didn't even know you were here."

"Sorry," I mumble, slowly standing to my feet. "I think I should go home."

Grayson sighs, wrapping his arm around my shoulder to keep me steady. "I'll walk you. Is Celia here?" I give a small nod, not bothering to refuse his help. "I'll find her after I bring you home so she knows you're alright. Are you, alright?"

"Yeah I—thank you," I breathe out, looking around us. I'm grateful to get away from the crowd as we step outside.

When we get to my house, I remember my door is locked. And I forgot my house key.

My dads car is in the driveway already, and all the lights are off, so he's probably asleep. He either figured Celia and I went to bed early or were next door and didn't care, but I'm not gonna wake him up while still drunk.

"You don't have your key, do you?" He chuckles, shaking his head at me. "Alright, back to the party we go. You can stay over, it's winding down now anyway."

"No, it—"

"Opal, you're not sleeping outside. C'mon," he insists, helping me upstairs and tossing me a shirt. "You can change, if you want. If you need anything I'll be in the backyard, but you should get some sleep."

He ignores my protests, shuts the door, and leave me standing in the dark. I'm not awake much longer after that.

A/N

Grayson secretly be kinda soft