It was amusing to see how fast Polly had gotten tipsy. It could be so easy to forget that there were people out there with much less of a tolerance when it came to alcohol, though whilst it was entertaining to watch the girl get all giggly and relaxed, Xavier was aware that he probably didn’t want to allow her to drink too much. The drinks were sweet and didn’t exactly taste much like alcohol, which could become an issue if his friend ended up getting too drunk.
He’d managed to contain himself in the food department, concentrating very hard on how much he was eating so he wouldn’t lose control and allow himself to start binging. It was especially dangerous with something like ice cream, but being fairly sober helped him out. “Honestly, I lost the plot a while ago, babe. But I’m going to assume there’s some romantic sub plot and the guy is trying very hard to impress the girl whilst doing some dangerous shit that’s almost getting him killed, because that’s just how things go.”
Xavier wasn’t very good at sitting still and watching movies. If he’d been with anyone else – except maybe Delilah – he’d be halfway into their pants by now, too busy keeping his mouth occupied in some way or another to be able to pay attention to whatever they were watching, but he didn’t cross that line with Polly. For whatever reason. Not that he wasn’t interested, but their connection had always been different and void of anything sexual, which didn’t happen often for him. Still, he actually enjoyed having a non-sexual friendship like this and he could use the distraction with Flint being such a pain in his ass. Or on his mind, anyway.
“We should probably get you some water soon, sweetheart. Don’t want you getting sick.” He commented with a gentle smile. “Anyway, we can look up the plot of the movie later and pretend we understood what was happening this whole time when we talk about it to other people.”
“Romance is so boring.” Polly huffed, rolling her large eyes only a bit at the screen. Her mood seemed to always move so quickly, it was even worse with her newfound interest in drinking—the act seemed to always leave her general attitudes heightened and much more present.
Eating was usually difficult for the small girl, often she would find herself starving out for days before she would even bring herself to chew on ice cubes. Polly didn’t know if it was her forcing herself to be that way, or something much less obvious—deeper than skin deep. Right then, however, she had no problem stuffing her face excitedly with cookie dough. God, did it taste good. Why hadn’t she done this before? “I mean, it’s just so played out and stupid. If I had a nickel for every dumb line Trent has used on me that sounded like a cheesy line from one of these movies, I would never have to worry about my house payments again. Have I fallen into bed with him in the past eight years? No. Nope, I haven’t which means that this mushy junk is just made up.”
“Water is dumb too, blah, If I get sick whatever. It’s not like I’m gonna be able to keep all of this down for long anyway.” Had she always been this loud? Polly couldn’t tell. It seemed that her usual soft tones had been forgotten. The small girl had always made a point to speak softly for the sake of other peoples ears. Her voice carried a very shrill quality, one that made even her own ears ache, but right then none of that seemed to matter. Not with the way she had been feeling lately.
