Light in the Darkness (4)
Abby Anderson X Fem!Reader, College AU, Part 4
Since part three was so short I am double posting, so when there is a small journal entry or “thought” chapter then there will usually be a double post because the content was so short.
But I’m not promising anything.
TW: Anxiety, overthinking.
PT. 3 PT. 5
Chapter 4–> Line Without a Hook, Ricky Montgomery, Week 12
Lyrics: “All my emotions feel like explosions when you are around
And I’ve found a way to kill the sound.”
Fuck Max, Tatum, and Bailey. Not literally, but figuratively. Why? Because now you’re in a small club with way too loud music, way too many flashing lights, and way too much of the smell of alcohol induced vomit that could very well be touching every nook and cranny of this hell hole. Of course, you did say yes, so it was partly your fault.
But you were still overstimulated, about ready to explode with anxiety. Tatum was already on the dance floor, dragging Max along behind her. Max was Tatum’s designated ‘gay’ best friend. They’ve always clicked, it’s like they share the same brain.
Bailey was with you, sitting at the bar. She wasn’t drinking, having been the next designated driver in the trio’s rotation. You offered to drive, but they all declined. Maybe it’s because you never went to bars or clubs with them, which was fine. They’ve never been your scene. But Max begged you to go, he felt bad because he thought you felt left out. Even though you explained that you didn’t feel left out, you said you’d go with them tonight.
“You good?” Bailey asked, leaning close to you so you could hear her over the music. Shrugging, you turn to look at the dance floor. There were a lot of people pressed close together, grinding, making out. You couldn’t find Max or Tatum anymore, but someone else caught your eye.
Owen, Abby’s ex-boyfriend. He was making his way through the crowd, stopping to grind on an unsuspecting woman. It was weird, maybe disgusting. Definitely disgusting. You had a weird feeling about him, even when you were bitching at him because of the Red Bull.
“I’m going out onto the floor,” Bailey said, catching your attention.
Nodding, you watch Bailey blend into the crowd. Turning back to the bar, you pulled out your phone. Pinterest seemed to be a good app to get your mind off of the club, cats being your choice of obsession.
“Hey, you’re Abby’s lab partner, right?” A voice too close to your ear caused you to flinch, scaring you from looking at a bright orange picture of a cat.
Turning your head, you saw a dark-skinned girl sitting on the stool next to you. Her body faced the crowd of sweaty college students, but her face was towards you.
“Yeah,” You frown, “Why?” Does Abby talk about you? You would probably be brought up because of her project, but hopefully nothing else would be brought up.
Abby’s friend widened her eyes, “Oh, she didn’t say anything bad, I promise.” She looked as if she let out some horrible secret, her deep brown eyes shifting away. “I’m Nora, I’d like to say I’m Abby’s best friend.”
You raised an eyebrow, not sure why she would approach you out of nowhere. Let alone at a club, and without Abby near. She already knew your name, which was weird considering Abby barely talked about her friends.
“Nice to meet you, is Abby here with you?” You ask, not trying to show your suspicion. It seemed to work, Nora visibly relaxing as she hummed, looking around the crowd.
“She is,” Nora said, “ She arrived a couple hours ago.”
Nodding, you bit your lip, “You brought Owen too?” You couldn’t hide the slight disgust tinting your voice.
Nora sighed, “He’s like the Scott Disick of our group.”
“God he looks like it.”
Nora smirked at your comment, then she pointed at the crowd, “There she is.” You follow the direction of her finger to see Abby. She was dancing with Owen, not seductively, more like she was trying to get away. Nora turned towards you, “I’m going to join them, hope to see you again.” She hopped off the stool, slightly jogging over to her two friends.
After Nora left, the music seemed to have gotten louder. It pounded through your skull, causing a fog in your brain. Looking around for a bathroom, you sighed in relief when you found one. It wasn’t too far away, just on the other side of the bar.
Making your way over, you cupped your hands over your ears to try to muffle the bass. You pushed the door open, surprised at how small the bathroom was. There were two small stalls on your right, a dingy light bulb flickering above your head. Both stalls were occupied, so you walked to the far side of the room, leaning your back against the wall.
As cramped as the room felt, it did muffle the music enough for you to gather our thoughts. You pulled your phone out again, going back to the pictures of cats to distract you from your anxiety. One of the stall doors opened, and you glanced up to see a woman with smeared lipstick and disheveled hair stagger out. She glanced at you, but then turned to pull the door open.
As she pulled the door, she kind of stumbled backwards. Someone was on the other side, pushing the door open. The girl caught herself, cussing as she held onto the stall door behind her. The other girl, who was pushing the door open, apologized, appearing as she walked in.
Abby was the other girl, peering at the drunken one hanging onto the stall door. The drunk girl stood up, glaring up at Abby. She pushed her way past the blonde, calling her a “sightless whore,” as the door closed behind her.
The blonde shook her head, turning away from the door to see you. Her hair was in her signature braid, some stands having fallen out, they were framing her face. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from the hot air from the outside, probably from the alcohol she’s consumed. Her blue eyes were blown wide, pupils almost overtaking her irises. She was wearing a cut-off black tee paired with green cargo pants and brown combat boots.
“Hey,” Abby murmured, a slur hinting at how drunk she may be. If she was blacked out, she definitely hid it well in front of you.
Giving a half-wave, you smile, “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”
“In the bathroom?”
“Sure, we could say that,” You laugh, noticing the light dust of pink overshadowing the flushness of her cheeks.
Abby frowned, looking around the dingy bathroom. “Do you want to get out of here?” She asked, placing a hand on the back of her head.
“I didn’t drive.”
The blonde pulled out a set of keys, “I did, but I need a driver.”
With a quick text to Max, you decided to drive Abby to your dorm. You didn’t really have a choice, Abby, having been more drunk than you anticipated, passed out in the passenger's seat as soon as you both got into her car.
The drive back to your dorm was brief. What wasn’t easy was trying to get Abby to stand up to get to the building’s elevator.
The girl was heavy, leaning on you as the elevator rose to the third floor. Abby didn’t smell entirely of alcohol, hints of cedar coming through. Her hair smelled of Pantene, which made some sense. Abby seems like the type to stare at the shampoos, remember Selena liked Pantene, and decide to go with that one.
The elevator doors opened, forcing you to hoist Abby further onto your shoulder as you practically dragged her.
“For how muscular you are, you sure as hell ain’t using any of them,” You grumble, half-dragging the blonde. Thankfully, your dorm wasn’t too far from the elevator, and you made it with minimal casualties. The only one being Abby’s hair tie, which you decided to hate as you vowed never to go back to save it.
Sliding your key card, you push the door open. Abby seemed to have gained a bit of control of her legs, kind of helping you out as you made your way to the couch. Your energy was depleting quickly at the sight of the couch, running on fumes as you dropped her onto it. She landed face first, and if anything hurt, she didn’t show it. Your muscles that were previously screaming at you, seemed relieved as you hunched over.
Turning, you went back to close your door and turn on the main lights. You and Max bought nightlights for the dorm, having both not liking how dark the rooms could get.
Abby grumbled, catching your attention as you made your way back to the couch. She turned over onto her back, blinking languidly. You crouch, taking her boots off.
“Where am I?” She asked as you finished getting her boots off.
You sat on the floor, leaning your back against the couch. Abby dragged herself into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes. She looked confused as she looked around, when her eyes met your face she seemed to have realized where she was. Her name left your lips, but nothing else.
“What?” You ask, staring at her ruffled hair that was quickly falling out of its braid.
Drearily, Abby patted the cushion beside her, “Sit with me.”
Standing up, you sat beside her, turning to face her. She was looking at you, back slightly hunched. You leaned forward, propping your elbows up onto your knees as you rested your head onto your hands.
“You’re so pretty,” Abby murmured, a hand slowly reaching up to touch your cheek.
She was drunk, she didn't know what she was doing. The heat that rose to your cheeks was embarrassing, a direct reaction to her touching you and her compliment. She was drunk, she couldn't be in the right state of mind. Abby leaned forward though, and you didn’t lean away. She was a couple inches now from your face. She had to be able to hear your heart racing, the loud thumping pounding in your ears.
“I mean it,” Abby whispered. “You’re so pretty.” Time slowed down as she leaned closer, her lips bridging the gap as she kissed you. Her lips weren’t chapped, having a minty taste to them. Abby kissed lightly, as if questioning you.
The blonde pulled away, suddenly looking sick. She leaned forward again, but this time not to kiss you. Instead, she puked onto your lap.
Posted on: 4/21/23
WC: 1,732
