Running After You

We were at a rest stop somewhere outside of Birmingham. Rosa had woken up a little while ago, and I may or may not have gotten alcohol while she was asleep.

“Niall, your hair is so long! It covers your eyes, man! And Niall, it's like… half blonde, half brunette! It's AWESOME!”

She through her hands up in the air like a schoolgirl.

“Are you alright, Rosa,” I asked. “You're being a bit strange.”

“Rosa? Who's Rosa?” She took another sip of beer. Hair fell into her face. “Whoa-oa! Wasn't my hair blonde? I do like these colors, though.”

She looked up at me. “Wow, you look different, Niall.”

I was so confused. “Wha-what? You're drunk, Rosa, give me the bottle.” I held my hand out, but she recoiled and gave me a look.

“No way, buzzkill! This is my new favorite! Hey,” she pays the jacket she has on, “where's my cigarettes? Where'd you put them, Niall?”

My mouth dropped.

Notes