sleep, befriend me, Ernest shows up drunk @ her house
Sleep: I’ll write a drabble of my character snuggling in bed with yours.
“You move too much.” Ernest complained, to which Ophelia responded with even more movement and an “accidental” kick. “Oops.” She smiled innocently. “I swear to god, ‘Phe, I will push you off this bed. Don’t test me.” He warned. They both knew it was a hopelessly empty threat though – Ophelia was his weakness, he had such a soft spot for her, and she was well aware of it; and also too happy to take advantage of it, in his opinion.
“Don’t be mean.” Her lower lip stuck out in a pout. “Anyway, it’s my bed. I can move around all I want.” Her pout changed to a defiant smile, one which made Ernest rolled his eyes and turn over on his side so his back was to her. He’d already began drifting off when not two seconds later, he felt steady breathing above him. “If this is a serial killer, please take me now.” He muttered. “And if it’s Ophelia, please, go to sleep.”
“Ernest, I’m not even tired.” She whisper-whined. He found it amusing that she whispered – as if she was trying to be considerate that he wanted to sleep despite her not letting him. Heaving an exaggerated sigh, he opened his eyes and couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of the girl hovering over him, lips pressed together back into a pout and eyes pleading him not to leave her away alone. “You have to be tired, you’ve been bouncing around all day.” He shook his head as he pulled her down to him. Immediately she laid her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight. He knew all she needed to fall asleep was to actually lay still – and he was right, she was fast asleep on him not even five minutes later.
Befriend Me: our characters meeting for the first time
How did he get here? Ernest couldn’t figure out how he always managed to end up in this situation – talking to girls who were so clearly out of his league. Ophelia was gorgeous, and above all cool, and he was hating himself for not being able to think of anything remotely interesting to say in her presence.
It didn’t help that she seemed to know that. The smirk on her face, the raised eyebrow – it all made her look even cuter, if that was possible, and it was really fucking annoying. He’d seen lots of pretty girls around Amber Springs, but fuck, he didn’t understand how someone like Ophelia was made and not dreamed up. His friends teased him endlessly for his crush – because it was no secret that he had a crush – he practically gave himself whiplash every time Ophelia walked by, trying to get a better look at her.
And now he was standing right in front of her.
“Aren’t you gonna say something?” She bit her lip teasingly. “Not that this isn’t super fun.” Fuck – Ernest couldn’t believe this, he was seventeen years old and this little fifteen year old had him weak at the knees. “I –” He cleared his throat, returning her smile. “No. I’m gonna buy you a milkshake, and you’re gonna talk to me instead.” He had no idea where the fake confidence had come from, or why it chose this moment to kick in, but Ernest was beyond grateful – especially since Ophelia seemed at least slightly impressed as she fell into step beside him.
Drink: My character will call, text, or show up at your character’s house drunk.
Ernest hadn’t been this drunk in a long time. He couldn’t remember when he’d started drinking, or why he’d started drinking, or even what time of night it was. It was late; he knew that much. Late enough that he should’ve turned in and called it a night, but he was too drunk and too happy to go to sleep. The party that’d he’d been dragged to courtesy of his friends had already dwindled down to the point where people started puking, passing out, and leaving, so Ernest was happy to ditch in favor of walking down the block to Ophelia’s house. He hadn’t seen her at the party earlier, so he figured she’d be back home, but in his drunken state of mind he didn’t realize she might be sleeping despite him being wide awake.
Beer in hand, he stumbled down the dark, poorly lit street until he reached the house he recognized as Ophelia’s. “PHE!” He shouted, not even thinking to knock or use the doorbell. “OPHELIA IT’S ERNEST, DON’T IGNORE M-” His sentence was cut off by Ophelia swinging open the door, staring wide eyed at him in disbelief. “What the hell are you doing, do you know what time it is?” She demanded. Her irritated tone of voice went right over Ernest’s head. He couldn’t even really hear it. In his mind, she was thrilled to see him. “I don’t even know what day it is.” He laughed, leaning against her doorway. “I brought you flowers!” He held out his empty beer bottle out to her. She glanced at it in half amusement then took it from him with a shake of her head. “Yeah, I saw. Thanks.” She responded after a seconds hesitation, her face and tone of voice softening alike despite him having woken her up. His laugh was infectious – she couldn’t help but laugh right along with him. “Fuck, you are so drunk.” She rolled her eyes, pulling him inside her house and shutting the door behind him. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
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