selfish | salia

Chapter 37

"I'll handle it. Besides, I think you're needed else-"

She was interrupted by a scratchy microphone squeaking over the music, causing us all to cringe at the loud playback. What the hell?

"Taaaaaaalia! Taaaaaalia! My girlfriend, everyooooone! Taaaaalia!"

I looked over to the side, and there was Simon with yet another drink in his hand, shouting my name into the microphone. You had to be kidding me. 

"You sure you can handle this?" I asked briefly, not even waiting for her answer before darting off in the direction of Simon and the microphone. 

"Simon! Psst, it's me, Talia. You wanna give me that microphone?" I ask sweetly, trying to save anyone else from permanent ear damage. 

He looked between me and the microphone, giving me a goofy smile before handing it over. "My microphone is now your microphone! It's our microphone!" He said cheerfully, and the expression on his face was equal to one of a person that had just received the best news of their life. 

"Thank you for the microphone!" I said sweetly, whilst also trying to subtly put it back down on the desk. "Look, I know it's still early but do you wanna go upstairs to bed? You don't have to sleep...just chat, me and you?" I asked, eyeing up the drink in his hand. 

He nodded his head absentmindedly, the goofy smile not leaving his face once. 

"Alright, can I have the cup? I'll give it back to you later, I promise," I say gently, coaxing it out of his hand and placing it on the table. Whilst our height difference was major, I managed to wrap an arm around him and hold him upright. Just one set of stairs and then we'd be in his room. Easy work. 

Definitely not easy work. A good five minutes later we finally made it up the last step, leaning against the banister on the first floor, silently thanking whoever for ensuring we didn't fall back down. Especially in heels. 

I managed to haul him into his bedroom, that was sort of nearly our bedroom, my belongings scattered across the floor despite having a room of my own - we didn't talk about it. 

He was sat on the bed now, looking around his own room as if he hadn't seen it before. I was rooting around trying to find something for him to sleep in. I managed to find some old short and a t-shirt, and decided it would do. 

"Do you even remember how many drinks you had this evening?" I asked, taking his top off to put his t-shirt back on. He giggled.

"No! They just kept comin', so I kept drinkin' them," he said happily, looking at me, his smile widening as he did, filling me with a sudden rush of butterflies. 

I had to look down for a moment, because I knew for a fact my cheeks were turning red. 

"Alright, can you take your trousers off? Or do you need help doing that too?" I asked, looking at the state of him on the bed. He told me he could do it himself, and he proved it, holding them up like it was an accomplishment at the end. I helped him put his shorts on, and took a step back. That was the first task out of the way. 

"Do you wanna go to sleep? Or talk?" I asked, sitting next to him on the bed.

"I guess I am a little bit tired," he said, stifling a yawn. 

"Alright then, let's get you-"

"You're being very kind to me but I have a girlfriend," he told me suddenly. I had to physically refrain from laughing out loud. He was this drunk?

"Oh, I'm sure she's a very lucky woman then," I teased harmlessly, going along with it. 

"No, I think I'm the lucky one. I've known her for nearly a year now, but we haven't been dating that long. In truth I think I'm a bit of a bad boyfriend because I messed up a lot but I do love her. I need to tell her that more. I should go and tell her now-" he said, trying to make a move to get up. 

Luckily I was up and on my feet before he could say or do anything else.

"Simon, she knows. She knows you love her very much, and she loves you back. And also wants you to know you're not a bad boyfriend, and that everything is in the past. I think you should go to sleep now," I said gently, helping him back into bed, this time tucking the duvet over him and propping up his pillows. 

He was snoring fast asleep before I even had the chance to turn the lights off. One part of me felt bad about leaving him to go back down and party, but I also knew he wouldn't be awake until the late morning. 

"Oh, fucking hell, my head," is the first thing I hear when I wake up the next morning. I roll over to the noise, and see Simon clutching at his head, his eyes scrunched closed. 

"What time is it?" I ask, yawning and rubbing my eyes. It's definitely light outside. 

Simon doesn't answer, so I check my phone. 

Three in the afternoon?!

I remember putting Simon to bed last night and going back out to party, but I had no idea what time I came back. Although, I'm guessing it must've been late considering I had only just woken up. 

"My head, how much did I fucking drink last night?" I hear him complain again, this time sitting up and looking at him and laughing. 

He looked at me, glared a little before also sitting up. "It's not funny! I have a bad headache!" He whispered. 

"I'm not surprised! You were so drunk last night! I had to put you to bed just after midnight!" I whispered back, enjoying the look on Simon's face as he slowly started to realise. 

"Don't worry," I continued. "You only shouted my name out a couple times on the DJ booth. Josh was way worse, he told me he was going to propose to Freya..."