Drake

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3: "Let's go. Doughnuts. Coffee. Air."

One thing I was proud of- I could handle my drink. As in, I could drink wines, spirits, beer- you name it- and it didn't turn me into a fragile mess. Back home kids were drinking in the park with their friends from the tender age of fourteen- fake ID could get you into a bar from sixteen- meaning by the legal age of consent- eighteen in the UK- you were usually a seasoned pro.

I used to go to the pub every weekend with my dad, where he would treat me to a packet of crisps and a ham roll. I would play cards with my friends whilst the adults drank, until the bell would ring to signify the end of the night. I used to love those evenings, spent feeling like a tiny grown up sitting at tables with my friends. We would only be sipping on orange juice but we would pretend it had vodka in.

So when I found myself at the Autumn Party after my first week at school, I was surprised by how drunk most of the girls were after one or two glasses of spiked punch. I didn't think it was too strong, but still I didn't knock it back. I wasn't about to become a cliche of my own getting wasted and bedding some random.

Nope.

However, I was thoroughly enjoying the party. One thing I already preferred over anything back home was how the Americans could throw a party. The room was not dissimilar to a club back home- multiple rooms with different music in each one, soft lights and tonnes of places to sit. Everywhere was lit by fairy lights, and the scent of cinnamon and spices filled the air. I was already stoked for Halloween here, but this was a fabulous introduction.

"Oh, you didn't make an effort. Don't they have parties back in the UK?"

I turned to see Malibu Barbie with her friends, cackling gleefully as I allowed my gaze to drift over her.

"None that you'd have been invited to. Excuse me."

I turned on my heel and walked away, thankful for the thick skin I'd developed to bullies and nasty bitches like her. What was her problem?

Maybe she needed to get laid.

I sipped my beer as I spotted Jones leaning against the wall, talking to Greg Doherty. If she was trying to play it cool, she was mistaken. She was gazing at him as he spoke nodding and laughing in all of the right places. I tried to hold back a smile as I leaned against the wall, taking a moment to absorb my surroundings.

"So are you going to cast a spell on anyone in particular?" I heard a voice murmur beside me, as I sipped my beer.

"Hello, Drake. Out of victims already?"

"Is that what you think of me?" he moved in front of me as I felt my a jolt run through me. His hair was slicked back, his eyes ringed with black eyeliner making them stand out like glittering emeralds. As he spoke I became aware of his fangs, and I sucked in a breath.

"Vampire. Victims," I explained, tearing my eyes away from him as I tried to appear disinterested.

"Ah. Here I was, thinking you were just being offensive."

Why was he standing so close to me? I know the music was loud, but that wasn't enough of an excuse. My eyes refused to obey my instructions to ignore his incredible body under the tight white shirt, instead they roamed freely over his body.

"So what's your type, Victoria? See anyone you like?" he raised his eyebrows as he lifted his honey coloured drink to his lips, which I really needed to stop staring at.

"Your powers won't work on me, Count Casanova," I laughed throatily, scanning the room for a distraction. He moved closer, studying me carefully.

"You're not drunk," he observed, clearly impressed.

"Not at all," my eyes came to rest on another fine specimen, a man who had come dressed as the Devil himself. "How fitting."

Drake followed my gaze, frowning when he saw where it had come to rest.

"Oh come on, that's too predictable."

"A girl has needs, Drake," I teased, finally meeting his deep green gaze.

"You're saying that like its news to me."

"So what's his name?" I pressed, enjoying his obvious jealously.

"Not for you, Victoria. He doesn't like sprinkles on his doughnuts." his voice was low now, and I allowed myself to look at him fully.

"He doesn't have to like sprinkles."

"So you want me to introduce you?" he offered, waving his hand over to the Devil across the room.

"Maybe. I don't know many people."

"You know me," he said, pressing me against the wall as I rested my hand on his chest.

Fuck, it was like rock.

"Yes, and I know exactly what boys like you are like. I saw Malibu earlier-"

"Your accent is incredibly sexy, you know that?" he murmured, moving my hair to expose my neck to him. I moved quickly, as I felt his hands lock onto my wrists.

"Oh no, Victoria. You're my victim now. I need to taste you."

Sweet mother of God and all that is holy.

Suddenly a hand clapped on his back, breaking the moment between us. I sent a silent prayer of thanks as I saw Drake's eyes narrow with annoyance.

"Hello there, I don't think we have been introduced. I'm Brodie."

I realised with horror it was the Devil from across the room. Drake lifted his eyebrows at me as Brodie lifted my hand to his lips, kissing it softly.

"Victoria," I said curtly, as he exchanged a look with Drake.

"Nice accent," he smiled, as I began to wonder if I should just stop speaking.

"Dana is looking for you," muttered Brodie as Drake stared him down.

"Well she won't have to look far, considering she is right over there," he snapped, pushing his hand through his hair with annoyance.

"So how are you enjoying the party?" smiled Brodie, revealing incredibly white teeth. His blue eyes were the colour of the sky on a Summers day, and I was reminded of the fact that this guy was another fuck boy.

"I'm leaving soon, actually."

Drake snapped his head towards me as he frowned.

"So am I."

"What a coincidence," I smiled, as Brodie groaned.

"Fair enough. But when you get bored-"

"Which she won't."

"Hit me up," he winked, clapping Drake on the back as I stifled a giggle. He walked away, not before sending me a knowing smile.

"Well, what did you think to him?" asked Drake, pressing me against the wall as I swallowed.

"He's a fuck boy," I whispered, as he nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Like me, right?"

My eyes were on his lips now, as I imagined what it would feel like to kiss them.

"Yes, like you."

"If you are going to fuck around, Victoria, do it with me," he said simply, as he leaned closer to me.

"Why?" I asked genuinely curious.

"Because I won't hurt you. I won't lie to you."

Don't. Kiss. Him.

"Unfortunately Drake, you're gonna get bored real quick. I'm here to study, not play with boys like you. Luckily for you though, there's plenty of girls wanting to be in my position right now."

"Yet here we are."

Fucccccckkkkkk.

"Hey, there you are! This is Simon, he's from our class," smiled Jones as Drake sighed with irritation.

Good.

"Wait, Simon? I thought-" I began as Greg shook his head slightly.

"How you doing? Nice accent."

"Oh fuck off," I rolled my eyes as Greg laughed.

"Oh, say that again." he teased, as I went to tell him to do it for real.

"She said, fuck off," Drake said simply, before locking his eyes onto mine.

"I think you owe me a doughnut."

"Uh, do I?"

I became aware of the others walking away, as I frowned at him.

"Why did you tell him to fuck off?"

"Because he interrupted us."

"Us? No mate, there's no us."

He traced his finger down my jaw slowly, tilting my head back as I felt myself surrender ever so slightly.

"No? So why are you breathing so heavily Rose?" he whispered as I tried desperately to control my breathing.

"Asthma."

He began to laugh then, before shaking his head.

"If I wanted you, I would have you."

At that moment I didn't doubt him.

"Well, it's a good job you don't," I laughed, wondering if I pressed myself further into the wall it would open up into another dimension for me.

"You're not very good at reading signals are you?" he lowered his mouth to mine, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath. My hand went around his neck despite my firm instructions not to.

There was nothing else for it. I had to rely on my mouth.

"If you're going to try to kiss me, don't waste your time. I'm not-"

"Drake! There you are."

I turned to see Malibu Dana glaring at us as I felt Drake sigh. He hand slipped around my waist as he looked back at me.

"Let's go. Doughnut. Coffee. Air."

Was he insane? Dana folded her arms narrowing her eyes at me as I felt myself shake my head.

"I can't. I'm sorry." I pulled my hand away, feeling his hand drop from my waist as I moved away, heading over to a disgruntled Jones. She was standing on her own glaring at me when I walked over.

"Simon has just left-"

"Greg," I corrected, as she frowned at me.

"What? Anyway, what the fuck is going on with you and Drake?"

I turned to see him leaning against the wall his arms folded as Dana stood in front of him, hands on her hips.

I shook my head slightly as his eyes met mine, my stomach clenching as he drifted his gaze lazily over my body.

"Nothing."

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