Not The First Time

The sound of their synchronized laughter are muffled over the loud, booming sounds from the club's stereos. A pair of boisterous teenagers stumbles over the paved road, uncaring about the lights from the cars on the street. After all, it is Seoul and everyone should mind their own business.

"This is my first time getting dhrunk," Pierre stutters, raising both his arms high above his head.

A girl wearing a short, sleek and provocative black dress that barely reaches her knees laughs, "Fuck you, that's what you said two years ago."

"That was two years ago. It's always my first time whenever I'd get drunk." The brown-haired boy runs a hand through his wavy hair and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt. "You don't have to curse while saying a single sentence."

Via's brain feels as soft as feathers and her vision is starting to blur but she grips Pierre's white shirt and tows him to the mini alley beside the club. She grins at him in her drunk state and holds the bottle of alcohol to his face. "I curse because I fucking can. You're just too fucking much of a fucking prude."

"Classy as always," Pierre rests his hand against the brick wall to support himself (too drunk to stand still) and he flattens his lips against hers. She tastes like alcohol, mint, and sin (although he couldn't comprehend how someone could taste like sin, but she does) and he's intoxicated once more by the feel of her. Via closes her eyes and grips a handful of Pierre's hair, deepening their kiss.

A glassy look fills his eyes as he pulls back to breath. "I love you."

"That's the shit you say before you'd ask 'My place or fucking yours'."

"I love you." His tongue glides over her bottom lip. In the dark, he presses her body harder against the wall.

"My place."

"We are so going to regret this tomorrow."

"Fucking prude."