Chapter 9 Drunk

Skye'S POV

“Hey!” Marco yelped chuckling. I could only hear his voice as my eyes were tightly shut in disrelish of the liquid as it reached my tastebuds and my brain declared it was a feeling of burning in my mouth and throat.

“Agggghhh! What an agony,” I groaned and grimaced at the alcohol flavor. 

“Why did you do that? I did not even get the chance to enjoy the aroma of it,” Marco whined as if he was helpless.

“I told you, you’re not allowed to drink. Not even a drop. Remember?” I squinted my eyes as I reprimand him. 

“I wasn’t going to!” Marco retorted defensively. He looked so cute as he pouted that I could not help smiling again. “I need that drink now, more than ever!” 

“Fine! Fine!” I exclaimed defeatedly. I poured another shot and handed it to him. “Here is another glass! Now don’t dare try having even a tiny sip of it! Ugh! I don’t even understand what taste this has,” I pulled a face as the aftertaste of the forty percent alcoholic drink’s flavor lingered in my mouth. 

Marco received the glass and brought it close to his face to satisfy his olfactory senses of its longing for its numbing effect even through its smell alone for now. 

“It has a fruity scent…” Marco said with his eyes closed. It seemed to me like he was really savoring the fruity scent he had just mentioned.

“Did you know that alcohol has its nasty taste at the first shot for non-drinkers, but the second and the following ones turn sweet and sweeter?” Marco spoke in the same manner as he did earlier; eyes closed as if speaking from the depth of his soul. 

I found it funny. And my giggles did not remain soundless, as a result, I made the man glared at me. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. I froze but my eyes winked looking up at the ceiling to avoid his. But I looked down after a while, as I sensed from my peripheral vision that his hand holding the glass moved a bit, and an intuition hit me that Marco was about to drink it, my eyes met his and with the intensity of his gaze, I started hiccupping. 

I was abashed. 

I felt my whole face and neck turn hot, burning hot!

“Are you alright?” Marco asked. 

I could not define if he was worried or amused at the sight of me looking like a freshly steamed lobster before his eyes. 

It added to my embarrassment. I felt even hotter and my hiccups worsened. 

“Damn it!” I groaned.

“Hey!” Marco yelled. “That’s mine!”

He tried to get the glass back into his hold. He even sprang up from his seat but I quickly turned around, and with my back to his chest, I gulped the colorless drink in it. I wanted to hide my face from his gaiety gaze. I ended up being back-hugged as Marco was after the glass I swiftly grabbed and chugged. 

“Ouch!” I heard the man groan. 

I stiffened and whispered sorry. I guess my elbow hit his wound when I tried to move away. 

“Can you move to sit on the chair? Let me check your wound,” I softly said, feeling so remorseful for causing him pain. 

I felt Marco step back and when I was sure he was nowhere near my body would bump into, I also turned around and sat on my heels to check on his injury. 

“Thank goodness, you’re not bleeding,” I sighed. “Does it still hurt?” I asked looking up with only a slight move of my chin and my eyes to see his answer. What I saw alarmed me. I started to blow soft air on his wound and my forefingers softly touched its surrounding skin as I tried to ease his pain. 

“Agggghhh…” 

I heard Marco groan. I moved closer to quicken my blows on his wound but I felt something poke me. My eyes traced to check on what it could be and with the soft fabric of his pajama, I noticed his front bottom looking weird. I mean, different. It looked like a tent was suddenly built in there. 

“Are you in pain because of your gunshot wound or…” I asked in bewilderment with my hands slowly moving down to touch whatever was standing in between his legs. “Is it because of this?” 

Marco did not say anything in response but his hands held his wound, one above the other, his face sported mixed emotions and I did not know how to identify all of them. 

“Skye….” he growled. 

“Hmmmm?” I frowned as I waited to hear what he was going to say next. 

I may be hemaphobic, but I am not androphobic. Although I haven’t been in serious relationships, I have dated back in my college days. But I have not been into the fullest of intimacy with a man, woman, or anyone for that matter. I know how to kiss and hug, and return the manner if given to me, but I have not done all the way sex with a man. And I don’t know if it was due to the alcohol’s effect that I was being so bold to do such moves about taking the initiative to hold Marco’s thingy. 

“Stop it….” he huffed softly. 

“I saw this in the morning, too,” I mumbled. “Would it ease your pain if I touch it?” I asked with hopeful eyes staring at him. 

“No, actually, you will make it feel worse,” Marco replied with difficulty. 

I sensed the wariness in his tone, so I did not make him speak further. I moved away as cautiously and instantaneously as I could manage and sat on the sofa next to his chair instead. 

“I’m sorry,” I apologized sincerely. “I thought for a moment there your body reacted as a man to a woman he fancied,” I confessed. 

The words that slipped out of my mouth were something my brain and sanity were against being known to Marco. But they seemed to flow out without my control. My emotions were feeling carefree. It felt refreshing, but I am also aware I will regret them later. I might feel naked before this man when I wake up from this stupid state of drunkenness. But the devils in me were rejoicing as they seemed to celebrate victory and leave everything for tomorrow to worry about. 

“Marco?” I called out as silence filled the whole place. 

“Hmmm?” he hummed in reply. 

“Do you hate me?” I asked. 

“No! You saved me, remember? What person would I be if I hate the woman who did not hesitate to help me even if she did not know anything about me? Not even my name,” he answered defensively. 

“Maybe hate is too strong. Let me rephrase the question,” I cleared my throat before I continued. “Do you dislike me in any way?”

“Why would you say that?” Marco asked. 

“I feel like you have been trying to shoo me away ever since this morning,” I pouted as I let out the distress in my heart. I knew without the effect of the two shots of vodka that I had, I wouldn’t have been able to spill these beans out of my own lips. 

I felt his gaze on me but I remained leaning my head on the backrest of the sofa chair with my eyes closed. Marco was silent for a while but I did not say anything as I waited for what he had to say as his comment. 

“I don’t want to burden you, that’s all,” Marco responded calmly.

“That’s all?” I asked as I lazily turned my head in his direction and with my drowsy eyes, I stared at him. He gazed back at me and nodded in response. 

“Not because you are trying to put a distance to avoid any sexual atmosphere building up  between us?” I asked straightforwardly. 

Marco sighed. 

“To be honest, that is correct. I don’t want your dad to think I am taking advantage of you since he is not around. I respect you as much as I respect him,” he replied in a serious tone. “I am a man and you are a beautiful woman. I can’t control my manly response whenever you would fall on your knees before my feet even if you are purely doing it in concern of me due to my wound,” he added with a pleading look in his eyes as if asking me to understand his predicament.

“Does it mean, that would respond this way to any woman doing the same things I did to you?” I asked in curiosity. 

“Of course not!” Marco eagerly answered, groaning right after. “For your information, lady, I am not a pervert,” he added with a frown.

His word made me smile. 

“Ah, right. I remember you said you did not have a wife, fiancee, or girlfriend, but your thing doesn’t seem to be out of order, seeing it stand even with only me around,” I stated. “Does it mean you are after the same gender as yours?”