One Heart

Nathalie's POV

“Wow,”Brian breathed, looking almost as if only his eyes were the only moving part of his body. “You look...”

“Like you are in a dress,” Johnny interjected.

“Very observant of you Mr. Christ,” I said with a slight roll of my eyes. The tray of drinks in my arms that I had brought down with me for the guys I set down on the couch before turning back to say, “I brought some Jack down for you lot; thought you might need a drink or something.”

“I’m so glad you married her,” Jimmy said as he happily helped himself to some Jack, even going as far as to peck her on the cheek before retreating back to his drums.

I smiled at her. “Thanks Nat.”

“As long as that isn’t the only reason you married me,” I said, wrapping my arms around Brian’s neck as he loosely hooked his around my waist. “Right?”

“Well...” He kissed me on the nose. “It’s one of many.”

“Hmm... good answer.” Just after finishing my sentence Brian swooped down and picked me off the floor, leaving me to desperately try to claw at the white fabric draped across me in attempt to not flash my underwear at the guys. “Brian, put me down!” Just to be annoying Brian purposely circled around the area of the basement at least three times and added in a few twirls here and there until he finally stopped and fell back on the couch, with me still in his arms. I pushed up from his chest and glared at him. “Have you had your fun being a ballerina?”

“Not nearly enough,” Brian remarked. “But it’ll do.” He played with the material of my dress for a while until he tried to push it by lifting it up across my thigh, leading to a slap on his hand and a scowl from me.

“Stop it,” I hissed, well aware of the four sets of eyes watching us. I lowered my voice as I leant in to whisper, “Save it for later.” I moved back and winked at him. “You don’t know what else was in that box.”

Sliding off of Brian I poured myself a drink from the bottle of Jack I brought down with me and downed it in one. When I went to pour myself another however, Brian held out his hand to stop me. “Slow down Nat, I don’t want to have to carry you home.”

“You seemed happy enough to carry me around here, so what difference does it make to carry me to a car?” I retorted, pushing aside his hand and refilling my glass. Just as easily as the last one, this was downed in a matter of seconds. “You can go out drinking, so why can’t I?”

“There is a difference between the way I drink and the way you are right now Nat...” He murmured, just watching as I poured myself another. “For one, I don’t go through a bottle of Jack in a matter of minutes.”

“No, you do it much faster.” Even though it wasn’t actually much alcohol, the fact I hadn’t eaten much over this past week and the lack of sleep certainly made up for it to make me feel tipsy already. “You just bypass basic mannerisms and don’t bother pouring it into a glass; you just swig it straight from the bottle.”

“Maybe so, but at least I can handle it.” He frowned. “You look like you can barely stand on your feet after three shots.”

“You don’t know what you’re on about,” I replied, already having trouble focusing on pouring drinks.

“Don't I?” He cupped each of his hands across one of mine and helped to steady the glass as the alcohol slipped in, the frown disappearing as he brought the glass first briefly to my lips, and then to his. “Then maybe you should just let me catch up to you first.”

–

Between six of us one bottle of Jack really wasn't going to cut it so we all ended up trudging upstairs and lounging in Matt's front room, where the entire contents of his kitchen that had even the smallest trace of alcohol ended up. Of course I used Brian as a mode of transportation upstairs since even though I hadn't technically drunk a lot, I could already feel the warm buzzing in my head.

“Whenzza girls comin' back?” Zacky attempted to stand in order to get to the table we had pushed to the other side of the room at some point but ended up falling instead, not bothering to ignite the conflict with his drunken limbs again and crawling instead. He looked just like an oversized baby who had just found the wonders of movement. His hand soon curled around the half-full 40 he was searching for and drained the last of it. “'Cause we're running outa drink.”

Even though at least three hours had passed since moving from the basement to the front room I hadn't exceeded those three shots of Jack- in fact, nothing of any sort had passed my lips since then. Now that I thought about it, I didn't even really remember being conscious for much of those three hours. I only knew of how much time had passed due to the clock staring at me from across the room. For the most part I had just kind of been slumped against Brian on the couch as the guys all began drinking.
Finally after I had managed to shake off the sleepy feeling that was hovering over me the dehydration from the earlier alcohol set in. I lifted my head from Brian's chest with a heavy effort, still feeling the sleep wanting to take me back under its wing. But I persisted until I finally managed it.

“Hey sleepy head.” Brian's breath stank of alcohol. From what exactly I couldn't say; neither from the smell nor the bottles on the table could divulge this information. Everything just seemed to be mixed together. “You slept through the party.”

“I'm sure you did fine without me,” I replied, stretching my arms to shake off the cramped feeling before I got up off the couch. “I'm going to go get a drink.”

He pulled me back next to him, slinging his arm casually around my shoulders as he said, “I'll handle that. Yo Zack! Chuck us a 40.” He grabbed it with his free hand and offered it to me. “Here you go.”

“I meant non-alcoholic.”

“Oh.” He shrugged, popping the top and taking a large gulp. “More for me I guess.”

A single glance at the table led me to my next question. “How much have you guys been drinking?”

“You know what Shads had in the kitchen?” Zacky asked.

“Yeah.”

“And that we brought it in here?”

“Yeah...” I repeated slowly.

He opened his arms wide above his head, responding childishly, “It was ALL of that!”

Should I really have expected a different answer?

“Well that's great,” I replied, leaning in to Zacky and speaking to him just like I used to do to Rae. “Now Zacky, what are you drinking there?”

He grinned sheepishly. “A 40.”

“Well I am going to get some water, so you have fun okay?”

“Okay!”

The guys all seemed to be sharing Zacky's mentality as they all pouted from the 'special attention' he was getting from me. Either that or they were fucking good actors. Needless to say I decided on the first explanation.

I had only just reached up and got a glass from the cupboard in the kitchen when my chest suddenly began to tighten; it happened so quickly that I almost dropped the glass in shock. The first thoughts that screamed in my head were that I was going to die, that these were going to be my last moments. However when I tried to call out for someone my voice seemed to be trapped in my throat, stuck behind some blockade that I was sure only consisted of air.

My back slowly slid down the counter until I ended up in a heap on the floor, tears streaming down my face as I tried vainly to intake any breath into my compressed lungs. I'm pretty sure if I squeezed harder around the glass in my shaking hands that it would have smashed from the pressure- not that I would have minded if it would have happened, since someone probably would have at least heard that.

Around me time just seemed to slow down. After each wheezing breath I would glance to the time on the microwave hoping that enough time had passed for someone to wonder where I was, only to have to look away again with the realisation that only a few seconds had passed since the last instance. I tried to shout out again but no sound came out, my lips just moving to words that couldn't be voiced.

After a while I leant my head back against the counter behind me and squeezed my eyes shut; hoping that if this was going to be my time to go, then at least I should just wish it would happen quickly.