«A turncoats return»

19| Late Night

Indonesia's POV

And now it's thunder storming. In the middle of the way back home, I just kind of gave up on running, knowing that I'll be completely wet either way. So yeah, it wasn't worth my effort wasting energy with running anymore. I simply walked home, yes- through the storm.
And of course, I ended up home being completely wet and soaked, water dripping from my clothes and body. The fabric clinging tightly and heavily on my skin, it feels like a burden to wear. Also, with the wind; I am freezing. It's so cold. I inhale, sneeze and shake my head. I do feel the alcohol in my system, but in fact, I didn't feel that tired anymore. More like the opposite, the cold rain made me more 'awake'. And that at midnight.
'Amazing.' I'm having a headache too. Shivering and with a running nose I finally reach the doorstep of my house, slowly making my way up the front stairs. I ring the doorbell and after a short time a familiar, female visage opens the door, looking at me not surprised at all- not emotional at all. It's a little creepy- but extremely normal for her as I learned. We exchange silent looks as if holding a full conversation, then she sighs.
"Sup."
"Hello." I answer. From her expression I expected her to give a rather nasty comment about my appearance, yet she just steps aside to let me inside Phil's house. I proceed to step inside. After the first step she stops me.
"You are not going to wet the entire house so STAY there. You smell like alcohol too." she notices, looking critical at me. Knew it would be coming. The way her voice curls from her throat would have send shivers down my spine, it sounds distorted and disformed, but thanks to the already mentioned alcohol I took it more careless than usually- and wink it off.
"Tell me something I don't know- I drank schnapps from Ireland." I explain, not really wanting to deal with her right now. I want my warm and comfy bed, thank you. I hope I don't get sick. I feel her getting a little bit annoyed as well.
"How much?"
"I don't remember."
"Everybody says that. At least you're only semi-drunk. It could have been worse I suppose." sigh sighs, almost mocking me. It is clear that she doesn't like me AT ALL, but I don't like her neither. At least the feelings are mutual. I open my mouth to respond as she cuts me off immediate, spinning around dramatically.
"Just take a shower and go to bed, damn it." she adds, sighing, walking back to the living room, just leaving me at the still open front door. I just nod, even though she doesn't notice it, looking after her. I mean- she can't tell me what to do- and I don't feel tired- but I don't want to argue with her right now. I hate admitting it but maybe she's right and a hot shower will make me feel more tired. I carefully take off my hat and hoodie, as well as my shoes, tip toing or bare foot inside the house, careful to not soak everything around me.

Like that, I walk upstairs to our bathroom. We have two of them- one upstairs and one downstairs- but we all usually shower upstairs. Downstairs is only a small bathroom. I enter the bathroom, drop my wet clothing, including the pieces I was still wearing on our towel drier, stretch and look in the mirror. I blink at myself and my facade in the dim light and suppress a yawn. Perhaps I'm more tired than I thought.
'I wouldn't mind some rest.'
"Alright, sure." Despite being wet- I really look terrible. Bags under my eyes, I feel my cheeks burning a little and my eyes are a little blood shot. What the hell was in Irelands drinks? I surely couldn't have been a K.O-drink, I managed to walk home and I am conscious. Though, my view does spin a little. The stare and comments from her are actually understandable now. Point for her this time. I slightly chuckle at my own state, grab a towel and walk to the shower. As I reach it, the door suddenly open. In shock I almost immediately cover myself with the towel, flushing up even more. Looks like I forgot to lock the door, silly me. Damn it! I really didn't think of this.
There is silence. I dart my eyes to the now open door. My heart stops for a moment.
My 'Mate' stands there, completely shocked and frozen in place- and surely blushing underneath the shadows. He snaps out, taking a step back, putting his hands over his mouth.
He did not expect that-
I did not expect that.
We just stare at each other with blank silence, red in the face. Any other person would have already closed/slammed the door shut, but not him. Is there more to this? Perhaps... no way. I feel the thoughts in my head almost painfully spinning. To my own surprise I actually stayed calm and didn't panic or anything this time- even though he's seeing me almost naked. Maybe it's because of the alcohol? I mean- I'm not 100% drunk, but still kind of drunk. But he isn't drunk. In this moment, a silly, very childish idea formed in my head. Something that I have only read in novels and bad fanfics/smuts about ships young people make on the internet. It is very silly and a little cringe, yet the alcohol has taken away my barrier to estimate my inhibition. It will be cringe, but fun, perhaps.
I COULD try to make my move on him and maybe flirt, I mean I can sneakily blame it on the alcohol the next day if I mess up completely. I am a drunk genius. I inhale internally. Here goes nothing.