Lana's POV.
"I just...I just threw up everywhere!" I cry out, humiliated. I am not drunk enough to throw up but there was something wrong with the food, or maybe the mixture of wine and my meal didn't go well.

"No fucking shit!" Zayn grabs his perfectly styled quiff and grunts. Why is he so mad? I just threw up. It's not like I killed someone.

"Hello?! Does anyone fucking see she threw up all over?!" Zayn yells at the hostess that he was eyeing before.

"S-sorry, sir..." She looks nervous as she grabs her cleaning supplies. As she walks towards me my cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"I am so sorry, ma'am. Here," I give her 20 pounds for my mistake. She shakes her head and says no, but I insists she has it. Zayn looks so embarrassed, I don't blame him. I feel like a disgrace and I really want to go home.

"Can we go?" I ask him, thanking the hostess again.

"Yeah. But you're not driving and I can't take you home." He says as we walk out the door.
"Why not?"

"Because you have way to much alcohol in your system." He looks at me as if I am stupid. As I start to protest, I begin to feel dizzy and almost fall on top of him, proving his point that I am a little intoxicated.

"What am I going to do?" I begin to panic. My mother and father would murder me if I came home drunk. I am not yet 18 and it's illegal, but I have been told I look 28, at the most.

"You're coming to my place." He directs me to his car.

"What about my parents?" I ask.

"Tell them you're staying at a friends." He answers as I stumble in the car. I didn't drink that much did I? I obviously did, because I just agreed to go to Zayn's flat.

"Ok." I say and search for my phone in my purse. I dial my mum's number and I hush Zayn, even though he hasn't said anything.

"Hello, Mum?" I say into the speaker.

"Is everything alright?" She asks in concern.

"Yes, umm I am staying at Maya's..." I tell her.

"Why?"

"Cause, Maya saw me studying and she needs me to help her on her project tomorrow." I answer, smiling at Zayn and he laughs silently and shakes his head.

"You've been acting so strange, Lana...But whatever, if you must...." She answers, obviously not liking the idea.

"Thanks mum, I love you..." I almost laugh as she says it back and we hang up.

"Did I do good?" I laugh hard to Zayn. The wine is starting to kick in now.

"I guess." He shrugs but he can't help but laugh at me losing myself.

"Sorry!" I say as we reach his flat, stumbling out of the car.

"Who are you apologizing too?" He laughs.

"A bird was," I burp in mid-sentence. "Was in my way and I scared it." I laugh even harder. I must be one of those drunks, the giggly non shut up ones.

"I like you better drunk." Zayn shakes his head, opening the door to his flat. It's huge, very beautiful. I wouldn't think Zayn would live in such a nice place. Despite the strong smell of liquor, it's wonderful.

"Zayn..." I slur. "How old are you?"

"I'm 21." He answers. "You?"

"17." I answer back. We really know nothing about each other.

"Really? Well fuck me...I thought you were atleast 20..." He runs his hands through his hair.

"Fuck me?" I ask.

"It's an expression..." He shakes his head an laughs.

"Oh." I cough.

"So you're in grade 12?" He asks, pouring himself some stinky liquor.

"Yup. You are in college?" I ask.

"Yeah. I take online courses. It's cheaper and easier than dealing with getting up and dealing with people." He laughs.

"What do you want to be?" I question as I sit on his couch, he sits on the other side.

"English teacher..." He laughs. "Sounds impossible, right? Me, an English teacher?" He laughs again.

"If you learn to get yourself together, yeah. But you have so many tattoos and piercings..." I add.

"I know. Maybe I can teach online or something." He sips his whatever it is.

"So you're an English major?"

"I guess so." He answers.

"I'm saving up to go to Harvard, in America. That's my dream." I tell him.

"Cool." I answers softly. We both sit in silence. This is the longest conversation we had, and it was normal. I wish he was like this all the time, but I think it's his alcohol talking, not him. To be honest, I am not that drunk. I am tipsy but not enough to forget everything that happened tonight.

"Um...where are you sleeping?" He breaks the silence.

"Here?" I say, patting the cushion of the couch.

"Okay," He runs his hands through his hair. He does that a lot.

"What now?" He snaps at me. My face must've shown some kind of expression but I really wasn't thinking anything.

"Sorry..." I say quietly.

"No, I am sorry, for being a huge dick. Now Lana I want you to know I just finished this bottle of Vodka." He slurs and walks back to the kitchen.

"What's that supposed to mean to me?" I turn my head towards him.

"That I have no fucking clue what I am saying or doing." He laughs and smashes the bottle in the trash can.

"Oh."

"Yup..." He stretches and takes off his shirt, he's wearing a white tank top underneath so he isn't showing anything.

"Lana you're really fucking hot...I just wish you were my type." He sighs.

"I'm going to go to sleep." I smile. I don't know how he's like when he's drunk so I really don't want to find out.

"Aww, why ruin the fun?" He whines.

"I'm tired, you should sleep too." I say.

"Don't tell me what to do you bossy bitch." He snarls at me. He's an angry drunk. I think.

"Goodnight Zayn..." I roll my eyes and shut off the lamp near the couch.

"Fuck you for making me walk in the dark. I could die." He moans as I hear the door slam. Bipolar drunk? This man is so confusing...he makes me want to know more. I honestly don't believe he hates me because, if he did, he wouldn't care if I drove home drunk. But he has to like my some what to let me sleep in his flat.

Notes

Hey! Double updated :D xx Make sure to vottee pleeeaaassssseee <3 <3