Chapter 1-hater
The first time you met Cole, you hated him. Your brother (Alex) always gave him attention, and both of them would leave you out of games or whatever. But that was years ago. Now Cole is twenty, and you're eighteen. But you still hate each other. You annoy each other, teas each other, swear at each other, and know how to get under each other's skin. Cole and Alex are in the kitchen, drinking from cans and talking about guy stuff. It's currently 8:50 PM. Alex hears the front door open and close and knows it's you coming home. Alex and Cole keep talking when you stumble in the kitchen...drunk? Alex and Cole both look at you, then burst out laughing.
"Shut up, I'm not drunk." I said, stumbling towards the kitchen sink. (My name is Daisy )
Alex doubled over, slapping his hand against the kitchen counter. "Not drunk? Daisy, you just walked into the wall on your way in!"
Cole didn't laugh immediately. He leaned back against the fridge, arms crossed over his chest, watching her with an amused, lopsided grin. His dark eyes tracked her clumsy movement toward the sink like he was watching a slow-motion replay.
"Right," Cole said, his voice low and teasing. "You're totally sober. That's why you're currently trying to drink water from a faucet that isn't even turned on."
He straightened up and walked closer, invading her personal space just enough to be annoying. He smelled like beer and something clean, like laundry detergent. He reached past her, his arm brushing hers, and flicked the tap handle. Water splashed uselessly onto the sink basin instead of into her mouth.
"Water's running, Daisy,"
"Shut up, Cole. You're annoying." I said, drinking water
Cole let out a short, dry laugh, tilting his head to the side as he watched her gulp down the water. "Annoying? That's rich coming from you."
Alex, still chuckling, grabbed another can from the fridge. "She's got a point, Cole. You are pretty annoying."
"Traitor," Cole muttered under his breath, but his eyes never left Daisy. He noticed the way her hands were shaking slightly as she pulled away from the faucet. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth—not a kind one, but the kind that meant he was enjoying this way too much.
"So, how much did you have?" Cole asked, leaning his hip against the counter right next to her. "Because from where I'm standing, you look like you're about two seconds away from falling over."
He reached out and tapped the side of her head with two fingers, a condescending little gesture."
None of your business," I said, pushing him away..
Cole didn't move. He absorbed the push with a grunt, his feet planted firmly on the linoleum, and looked down at her with that same infuriating smirk.
"Your brother's best friend," he reminded her, voice dripping with mock politeness. "That makes it everyone's business."
Alex had already moved on to the living room, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen. The sound of the TV muffled in the other room made the space feel smaller, more private.
Cole took a slow sip from his own can, his eyes never leaving her face. He could see the flush creeping up her neck, the tell-tale sign of alcohol hitting her system hard.
"You're gonna regret this tomorrow morning," he said, his tone dropping the teasing edge for a second, replaced by something flatter, more observant. Then, as if realizing he'd been too serious, he recovered quickly.
"Yeah, yeah," I said, rolling my eyes. "Whatever you say."Cole's smirk widened. He loved it when she got dismissive like that; it made it so much easier to push her buttons.
"Oh, we're doing the eye roll now? Classic," he said, taking a step closer, forcing her to either back up or stand her ground. "You know, for someone who's supposedly 'not drunk,' you're being incredibly defensive."
He set his beer can down on the counter with a soft thud and reached out, grabbing the edge of the sink on either side of her, effectively boxing her in against the counter. He wasn't being aggressive, just intentionally suffocating her personal space.
"Where were you, anyway?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave. The teasing was still there, but there was a genuine curiosity beneath it.
"Language, Daisy," Cole called out after her, his voice carrying through the hallway with a playful lilt. He didn't even turn around to see her reaction, just kept walking toward the living room.
Alex looked up from the couch, grinning. "She's definitely gone, man."
"Gone? She's trashed," Cole said, dropping onto the recliner and kicking his legs out. He cracked open another can, the sound sharp in the quiet house. "She's gonna be a nightmare tomorrow when she has a headache and blames everyone but herself."
He stared at the blank TV screen for a moment, his expression unreadable. The memory of her stumbling in, flushed and defiant, flickered in his mind. He shook it off, taking a long pull from his drink.
"Think she'll make it to her bed without hitting another wall?" Alex asked, chuckling.
Cole shrugged, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.Then he was watching her continuously.. And smile
