Happy

[013]

If this were a perfect world, Alex would be going to Zooey's flat, giving her a single yellow rose with red tips – the one that represented friendship and falling in love – and then instead of saying anything as he gave her the rose, he'd gather her in his arms and pull her in for a kiss that would blow her mind.

But alas, this wasn't a perfect world.

And the only reason why Alex and Zooey were talking was because he was pissed drunk and she'd been the first person that he dialled up. He said he missed her, and that not seeing her for a day killed him – even though they'd seen each other earlier that day, in which the kiss happened – and that he had no idea how to get back home from the flat of the woman's that he'd just 'ravished', as he so simply put it before he did so.

The only thing that really mattered to the drunk young man was that he at least thought about those things. He wanted to do them, really, but he didn't; so he comforted himself by repeating the mantra "it's the thought that counts." Even in his drunken state, he was thinking of ways to tell her that he could actually see himself with her, kind of, so that was all that mattered.

"How much did you drink?" Zooey groaned as she staggered on her feet the moment Alex decided to rest all of his weight on her shoulders.

Alex giggled, shrugging. "I dunno. Kinda a lot? Probably."

"Why?" She questioned exasperatedly, pushing him into the passenger seat of her car.

"'Cause I realised I fucked things up with you and then I got drunk and had sex with someone and that was me fucking up again so I drank some more and then now you're here so that's good." He explained in a single breath, breathing in deeply with a childish grin pulling at his lips once he was done.

Zooey looked at him for a moment before she sighed, shaking her head and then shutting the door. Or maybe she didn't shake her head. His whole world was wobbling. She might've just been standing still, for all he knew.

Meh, unimportant.

Alex fiddled with the radio dial the whole ride back to his flat and Zooey didn't even bother stopping him. She didn't make conversation with him, either, so he thought that maybe she'd lost her voice or something. Why wouldn't she want to talk to him otherwise?

She pulled up in front of his complex, turning to look at him, nodding over at the building. "There's your stop. Think you can make it up okay?"

"Well, yeah, butttttttt I don't wanna go home yet."

"Alex." She sighed.

"Let's hang out. Drink a bit. Kiss a little. Come on, Zo." He grinned childishly, nudging her gently.

"Please go home."

"Come onnnn." He whined. "Let's chill for a bit."

"Alex." She sighed. "It's a quarter to four in the morning and I have to get back to work, because I actually have a job that I'd like – and actually need – to keep. So please, for God's sake, go home."

Perhaps it was her tone, or perhaps it was the tiredness in her facial expression. Whatever it was, it made him sober up enough to nod, pulling her in for a half-hearted one-armed hug and a gentle peck on the cheek before he exited the vehicle. He shut the door behind him and then he placed a hand on the hood of the car – head ducked down so that he could see through the window.

"Drive back to work safe." He smiled.

She smiled back, amused. "Will do. Now go home, and get some sleep. I'll see you when I see you."

With a nod and a wave from the semi-drunk man, she drove off; leaving Alex staring after her retreating vehicle.

-----

Alex yawned, slowly sitting up in his bed. His half-lidded and sleep ridden eyes observed the spot next to himself on the bed before they wandered around the bedroom. He was in his own bedroom, so that was good. His head hurt but the funny thing was he'd grown accustomed to the pain. He had, after all, been drinking like a goddamn camel for the past two and a half weeks. Hangovers were a norm for him now, as bad as that sounded, even to himself.

He couldn't remember much from the night before. He was still in that blissful stage in which nobody had any recollections about what had happened the day before. And then the memories would all come crashing back like a tidal wave.

His memory was a bit fogged up due to the alcohol he'd consumed, but he did remember the things that had happened in the afternoon, which pretty much led to the reason as to why he was drinking so much.

He'd fucked up, he realised with a groan, letting his body fall back down onto the bed as he rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

With a sigh, he heaved himself off of the bed; dragging his sticky body into the bathroom for a well needed shower. After one of the longest showers that he'd ever taken, he stepped out in only a towel, not bothering to put on any pants or trousers of sorts as he went into the kitchen for a couple of painkillers and coffee. There was only the dog in his flat. His dog had seen far worse – he was sure of it.

His phone, which was sat on the breakfast bar top thing, lit up then – telling him that a text was unread from the night/morning before. He bit on his lip, almost wanting to completely ignore his phone and the said text in fear that it was from a certain brunette with green eyes, wanting him back, despite her insistence on her not ever taking him back, should he come 'crawling back to [her].'

You're welcome, by the way.

Alex frowned in confusion at the text before recollections of him calling Zooey up the night before, followed by her sending him home pieced back together in his mind. He sighed, again, as he realised that he couldn't remember shit about anything he'd said to her. Alex could only hope that he hadn't been a complete twat.

It was already well past lunch time so he decided that a quick ring wouldn't hurt him. He didn't want to lose her as a friend (or whatever), especially since he didn't really make any other friends while back in Essex and he knew that he was going to go home – as in home home – in a week. As much as he wanted to stay in Essex for a much longer time period, he missed his parents, his best mates, his mates, and Baltimore, in general.

"Hello?" Her voice was groggy, and Alex raised a brow. She should've gotten back and fallen asleep by seven in the morning, latest. Plus, she was usually up by this time.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." He greeted with a soft chuckle. "It's more of a good afternoon, but whatever."

He could hear her shuffling around the sheets before a small yawn escaped her lips, as did a "hey."

"Sleep well?"

"I guess so." She mumbled. "What's up?"

"Just, uh, wanted to say thanks for the ride last night."

Zooey laughed lightly. "No problem. Wasn't about to let you walk around while drunk, alone, in the dead of the morning."

"Yeah, so thank you." He chuckled softly.

"Bit of a deja vu, innit?"

"What is?"

"This." She pointed out, and Alex could hear the smile in her tone – instantly making him smile stupidly by his lonesome in his kitchen whilst sat in a towel in his kitchen. "You thanking me for bringing you home safe and shit."

"I've said it before, I'll say it again. That was one of the best decisions I've ever made."

"What? To spill your guts out to a random bartender?"

"In a way – yeah." He laughed, nodding, although she couldn't well see him. "So, um, I was thinking..."

"This can't be good." She teased, making him laugh again.

He didn't know if they were okay, if they had moved past the whole kissing thing, but he was hoping to anyone who would listen that he'd get a second chance with her. He wanted her, but at the same time... He didn't. He liked her, he liked kissing her, he liked holding her, but he didn't know if he was ready for the whole relationship thing just yet. Especially with Lisa (and Tay) still lingering around.

"Rude." Alex scoffed, making her snicker. "Anyway, as I was saying... I was thinking... You wanna, um, come over? Watch a couple movies with me, or something? I'll buy you a pizza." He tempted, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Pizza was everybody's weakness. Even people who insisted that they didn't eat pizza had a weakness for pizza. It was fuckin' pizza. Who didn't like pizza?

"Um..."

"Please? I'm gonna go home in a few days, I need to spend more time with my one friend before I leave." Friend. The word tasted foul on his tongue, but he bit back and swallowed any intentions of taking it back. Friend. Just a friend.

"I was starting to think you weren't ever going to go home." She teased again, making him chuckle.

"Oh shut up," he laughed. "So what do you say? Pizza and movies? Since I'm leaving soon?"

"It's like you're going off to war." Zooey snorted. "But yeah, um, sure. I'll be over in a couple hours."

"A couple hours?" Alex asked incredulously. He knew that girls took a long time to get ready, but she was literally coming over just to laze around like she would probably be doing while in her own home.

Zooey hummed on the other end of the line with a small scoff. "I just don't wanna get out of bed yet."

-----

Neither of them knew how it happened – but they were kissing again. No, they were full-on snogging, Alex with a hand under Zooey's top, stroking gently at the smooth skin while Zooey was basically lying down atop him; kissing him feverishly and with as much force as he was kissing her.

They were only watching a movie. That was it. They weren't even talking. They weren't even cuddling. They were sat side-by-side on the couch, both of them in slouched positions that did not seem comfortable, but really was. The pizza they'd ordered was long ago demolished – seeing as both parties had only just woken up and hadn't eaten since the day before.

The movie that was playing was a comedy. The Hangover, maybe. Alex wouldn't know if you asked him – for he was too busy trying to stop himself from thinking about what it'd be like to kiss her again, and again, and again.

There was something intoxicating about her lips – about her. He didn't know what it was, but he knew that if he were to be drunk off of his arse, with the slightest touch of lips against lips from the young woman next to him, he'd sober up. The taste of her lips would've been enough to keep him there forever – as cheesy song referencing as that was.

He had his arm resting along the back of the couch, which later served as a pillow of sorts when Zooey leaned her head back. And the next thing they were conscious of, they were aching for skin-to-skin contact as their lips collided and separated repeatedly – tongues sliding against each other as they revelled in the taste that the other had.

Zooey pulled away, and Alex immediately snapped his eyes open; the most disappointed and pouty look ever present on his handsome face. She let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she let her forehead rest on his chest while they both tried to get enough oxygen into their lungs.

"We need to stop doing this." She breathed, looking up at him.

"Why?"

"Because."

"I like kissing you." He said, pulling her up higher against his body so that their faces were in-line again; lips able to touch the moment one of them moved forward.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Alex nodded, smirking a bit as he brought a hand to the back of her head – pulling her the slight distance down so that the distance between their lips could cease to exist.

She breathed a chuckle against his lips, instantly making him smile.

And he knew it was wrong. He knew that he would regret it, because he was just going to leave her. He knew it. But he just kept on kissing her, because in that moment: nothing else mattered. It wasn't a frontman of an American pop punk band who had problems with commitment and insecurity issues with a bartender that he happened to bond with. It was only Alex and Zooey.

Two people with undeniable chemistry. Two people with problems of their own. Two people who, if they allowed themselves to let go and take a step back from their own problems to see how compatible and perfect for each other, could form one whole.