Champagne's For Celebrating (3/?)
Title: Champagne's for celebrating (3/?)
Rating: PG- 13
Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, or anything of any real value. Epic life fail :) Title is taken from the Mayday Parade song of the same name.
Summary: My first A/U fic. Read on :P
A/N: This probably should have just been included in chapter two ( http://community.livejournal.com/naomi_x_emily/412429.html#cutid1 ) but I hadn't actually written this then, so figured I'd just make it another short chapter :P It's still rather rubbish, I'm afraid. Having said that, reviews would still be greatly appreciated :P
For God's sake Emily, stop fucking staring at her. Emily's been mentally slapping herself for the past few hours, has found her gaze continually drawn back to the blonde no matter how hard she tries to resist the temptation. Occasionally, Naomi catches her looking and Emily has to quickly avert her eyes, awkwardly looking anywhere but in the blonde's direction. She shouldn't bother really, she thinks. Knows it's probably blatantly obvious to Naomi that she's been staring and that her many attempts at subtlety are only serving to make her look like even more of a loser. Sighs to herself and wonders why she had to be her and not someone else. Thinks her social stupidity can't possibly be genetic since her and Katie are so....completely different. Isn't entirely sure why she even bothers entertaining such pointless thoughts since she learned a long time ago that thinking and wishing never amount to anything.
Naomi's demeanor has changed drastically throughout the night, Emily notices. The trademark scowl is still strikingly apparent, but somehow, in a way which Emily can't quite decipher, the blonde seems less....hostile. More approachable. Probably the drink, she thinks to herself. Goes back to serving a seemingly endless flow of customers and even manages to fake a smile every so often.
''Got a bit of a thing for blondie, eh?'' Emily's interrupted from her latest staring session (much to her intense irritation) by the reappearance of the wanker from before, smirking arrogantly at her from the other side of the bar.
''What? No. Why would...'' Emily feels her face burn. Is torn between wanting the ground to open and swallow her up, or throwing a pint in his face. Decides that, however appealing both options may be, neither is particularly practical. Settles to adopting an expression of confusion and innocence and prays more than anything that it's at least somewhat believable.
''You've been staring at her all night. I ain't as stupid as I look, babe. Now, more beer, yeah?'' He slams his fist onto the bar and offers yet another shit eating grin, along with a crumpled, torn tenner. Emily's mortified. Wonders if she's really been that fucking obvious, if she looks as tragically desperate and lonely as she feels on the inside. Busies herself pouring him a pint before her mind has the chance to chastise her for being so fucking stupid.
''Hey, Red? Red!'' Emily looks up, wonders if this idiot addresses everyone he encounters in terms of their hair colour. Looks at him in irritation. ''I reckon you've got a chance there.'' He nods briefly towards Naomi before continuing. ''Rumour has it, she bats for your team. Just make sure you film it for me, yeah? Could do with some new material for the wank bank.'' He laughs loudly, picks up the pint which Emily had reluctantly poured for him and swaggers back over to his friends. Tosser, Emily thinks to herself. Would have come up with several more derogatory words to call him had she not been far too preoccupied with processing his speculation.
A few minutes before closing, Emily once again makes her way over to Naomi's table to collect yet another empty glass. Christ, that girl can drink. Tries to appear nonchalant as she pauses in front of the blonde, catches her eye momentarily as her hand finds the glass, and is pleasantly surprised to see a slight, subtle smile spread across her face. Uses it as an excuse to initiate yet another conversation.
''So...How do you know him?'' She nods in the direction of the guy from the bar, letting her curiosity get the better of her once more. Feels her confidence grow slightly upon seeing the lack of irritation upon Naomi's face.
''Used to go to my college. Along with several hundred other not-quite-evolved idiots. It was like a fucking zoo with textbooks.'' She smirks as Emily lets out a quiet giggle. Thinks that perhaps the blonde has more of a sense of humour than one would realise at first glance, might not be as anti-social as people may think. Either that or she's just had so much to drink that she's able to tolerate Emily's irritating questions.
''You live round here then?'' It's none of her business, she knows. Can't quite help herself.
''Know the hostel down the street?'' Naomi rolls her eyes, lets out an exasperated sigh as though the mere thought of it is both physically and emotionally draining. Doesn't bother looking up to see if any sort of recognition is displayed across Emily's face. Simply continues. ''I live there. Some sort of communal living shit my mum came up with. Reckons it instills some sort of group spirit and teaches people to be more tolerant of each other. Bollocks.''
''Don't enjoy living there then?'' Emily flashes her a lingering, sympathetic smile before going back to playing absentmindedly with the empty glass in her hand and trying to ignore the nervous knot in her stomach.
''Would you enjoy living with a bunch of hippies who constantly steal all your food? One of them thinks he's the messiah. Actually thinks he's the fucking messiah. Christ, it's like living in a bloody mental institution.'' Emily can't help but to let out a slight laugh at Naomi's drunken rant. She's fucking adorable when she's angry, Emily thinks.
''What?'' Naomi doesn't seem to see the funny side, narrows her eyes momentarily as she clenches her teeth and looks away in annoyance.
''No, I didn't mean...I'm sorry, it's just...you're funny. The way you say things, I mean. I mean...'' Shut up. Just. Stop.Talking. Emily's gaze finds the floor again and she wonders why she even attempts the art of socialising. Thinks she should have given up years ago to save herself from endless embarrassment and seemingly unstoppable rambling. She's about to do just that, in fact. About to walk away when Naomi speaks again.
''Right. Thanks, I think. I've been called worse, I guess.'' Naomi shrugs, smiles slightly, and Emily's pretty sure it's the most wonderful thing she's ever seen. Tries not to stare too intently, tries to stop herself from smiling back. Tries and fails.
''Does your dad live with you too?'' Emily realises as soon as the words leave her mouth that she's fucked up spectacularly. Can tell from the way Naomi's smile falters and the way she shifts uncomfortably in her seat that she's said completely the wrong thing. As fucking usual. Should probably stop asking the blonde such stupid fucking questions.
''No. He doesn't.'' There's an awkward silence, and a look of sadness flashes across the blonde's face until she once again adopts her sarcastic exterior. ''Just as well really. He's a right cunt.'' Naomi laughs, but Emily has a sneaking suspicion that it's more bitter than amused. ''Anyway,'' the blonde suddenly stands up ''See you later, yeah?''
''Are you...going to be back tomorrow night?'' There's probably more than a hint of desperation in her voice, she realises. Isn't entirely sure if she cares.
''Might be. Depends if the hippies have drank the last of my vodka or not.'' Naomi laughs, genuinely this time. Disappears through the door without a second glance. Emily grins. Immediately produces her phone from her pocket and texts Katie to say she'll cover her shift tomorrow night. Just in case. Smiles to herself and thinks that perhaps her mundane, tragic existence just became slightly more bearable.