no. 1 party anthem arctic monkeys ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

Your vision feels blurry as the obnoxious disco lights and drunk teenagers crowd every inch of the space around you. The bass is so loud, it shakes the whole living room this shitty party is in.

You wander around, maneuvering around teenagers making out and dancing, in a futile attempt to escape the hellhole.

You hadn't really wanted to come here anyway, forced by your friends, who had laughed saying you'd "have a good time, for once" which you, apparently, "desperately needed."

You grunt, finally able to squeeze yourself between two giggling girls, and find a corner on a flimsy, leather couch. You heave a sigh of relief, but it's not so much better. The air is still thick with sweat and cheap cologne.

The moment of peace only lasts for a moment, though, before you feel some sort of weight on your shoulder. Your gaze flicks down, to find a very drunk Aurélie resting her head on your shoulder. "Hey, amour," She slurs, drunkenly.

Aurélie lifts her head up from your shoulder, not before letting out a giggle. “Youuuu...” She drawls, poking your chest with a fingertip. “You look waaay too serious for this... like, way too serious... for life.”

Her amber eyes, still glossy with alcohol, meet yours with a lazy, playful glimmer, but her smile falters for just a moment. "Actually..." Aurélie mumbles, voice suddenly quieter, "You’re kinda... always serious, aren't you? But I like that."

Aurélie brings the red plastic cup, probably filled with beer, to her cherry lips. "Mm..." She hums, suddenly back to staring and grinning at you like an idiot, as she sips her drink.

"Sometimes," She shuffles closer to you, letting her head back on your shoulder. "Sometimes, I think I love you. Like insanely love you," Aurélie fumbles over her words, eyes crinkling at the corners like she just said something stupid, and she knew it.