because you're all that i'm not
two.
"One, two, three - WHEEEEEYYYY!"
And then they were down, sprawling on the floor in a hurricane of long, opaque and denim-clad limbs and raucous, drunken laughter.
Sam watched from the corner he was slouched in, ignoring his friends' conversations and nursing a lukewarm pint of Carlsberg. His eyes were fixed on the girls as they giggled on the pub's hardwood floor, their strap tops and band t-shirts riding up to reveal slithers of taut, tantalising skin.
It was the fifth time that he'd seen them here. He wasn't stalking them or anything; they just happened to frequent the same pub that he and his flatmates occasionally haunted. It had been accidental, the first couple of times. Yet now everytime he passed through the cigarette smoke cloud that clung permanently to the pavement outside and crossed the threshold of the bar, he instantly found himself scanning the room to see if they were there. They were just so absorbing; these girls, with their bright eyes and mussed up hair, who flirted with everyone and drained glass after glass of iced SoCo and lemonade - ohmygodd, it tastes like refreshers! all the while swaying their hips to whichever indie pop song the barman's ipod had most recently vomited out.
They were different to most of the girls he knew. They were upbeat and sparkling and glossy, yet in a ripped, scuffed, canvas-and-rubber-soled kind of way. The sort whose kisses would taste of skittles and cigarettes, and who would dance on their own in a rain-drenched festival field, just because they were young and alive and they could. They were infinite, immortal.
And totally, utterly unattainable.
Sam downed the rest of his drink and slammed it down on the table with a hollow clunk.
At the bar, the girls laughed.
♥