「 scott 」
❝ oooookay, we’re going to take that bottle of jack out of your hands for a little while, yeah? ❞ scott curls gentle fingers around isla’s frame, wincing as the bottle clatters to the floor. luckily, it doesn’t break. his mom would kill them if the rug got ruined. once his grip is secure, he curls his other arm beneath her knees, scooping her up. she was too inebriated to protest strongly, and he just wanted to get her into her bed. she’d sleep this off, and—- and maybe talk about it in the morning. maybe. doubts it, though. she usually doesn’t. ❝ you’re not a mess. you’re okay. ❞
there's an absolute, and instant frown painting her features when he says he's going to steal the alcohol away from her. what a rude jerk. doesn't he know why she's a mess. spoiler alert: it's him. it's absolutely him.
like, what gives him the right to make her have feelings? he's suppose to be her best friend. and, give her good feelings. not scary ones that involve emotions she's never wanted in the first place. god, dick.
fingers are too clumsy to keep hold onto the bottle, but, it's like she barely notices that because he's pulling her closer, and the sweet smell of gentle cologne complimenting tan skin fills her nostrils. it only gets worse when she's in his arms. it wasn't a difficult feat considering how small she was, but, it also doesn't stop her from being semi impressed.
head leaning against his chest, she nuzzles slightly, and continues to find herself in a position she doesn't want to be in. scott mccall sucks balls.
❝ i'm such a fucking mess. ❞