#gringo2018

[multifandommilfs]

Reunions

Relationship: Elaine Markinson x Reader

Summary: After pining for Elaine throughout college, you realise the feelings are mutual in a reunion party after graduation

Word count: 4131 characters

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Who in the right mind would think of hosting a graduation party? It was practically the end of an era, there was nothing else to talk about without building up relationships for it to fall away a year or two later, there was never a time where people actually stayed in contact after years of bustling careers and families, at least that was what your parents told you.

Despite that, you just had to see Elaine one last time, to preserve whatever memory you could of her before you left it up to fate, perhaps only it'll only be a fleeting glance, a recognizing wave that would lead to a false hope of another gathering. "You should call me sometime," someone would eventually say and no action would be taken or perhaps you'll simply never meet altogether.

With that in mind, you still walked past the multicoloured string lit doors, the sharp smell of liquor knocking the life out of you, someone slapped you on the back, hollering something inaudible amongst the blasting rock music, the revolving disco ball threw a glare straight at your eye and someone split foul liquor right on your shirt.

"What the fuck?!" You screamed but only heard of retreating trail of laughter. "Goddamn this-" A drown out call of your name to your right captured your attention, the tone all too familiar and sent a shocking pang to your chest.

You pushed past the dense welcoming crowd of people, the vile odour of teenagers coercing you to hold your breath.

"I heard from Richard that you wouldn't come- oh what happened to you?!" Her eyes raked down your damp t-shirt that was plastered to your skin which you pinched away. "An oscar winning welcome happened." You deadpanned but you were already trailing after her to the bar, your hand clasped in hers in a loose grip, her scent that blew into your face tinged with the sweetness of wine, it was no surprise that she was already tipsy before you could even have a good look at her.

You bumped into her back as she halted abruptly, her hair spilled more wisps of wine into your face than your damp shirt did as she whirled around in the barstool, lips rich in deep red that brought out the dreaded urge of grappling her into a long-awaited kiss right that moment.

"A bottle of red!" Her voice slurred and hauled you out of your reverie, you averted your gaze the bartender. "No can do lady." He gestured briefly to the limited storage of liquor with a curved thumb off his shoulder.

She let out a noise of annoyance, eyes slipping to you, the curl of her lips sent your heat rising up your face. "Give me the strongest icebreaker you have." She said it with a sultry growl, eyes aimed dangerously on you, tongue wetting her lips, extracting a ladened breath from your chest.

In another moment, shot glasses were served up on the counter disgustingly peppered with unknown crumbs and splay of sauces that was pink, green and blue all in different seconds.

You glanced warily at the concoction in contrast to her downing the drink and tsking deliciously with a quick cock of her head. "Drink up, isn't that what you're here for?"

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So there you sat, your vision moving a second slower than where you hoped your eyes would land, everything seemed amusing, from the way people were dancing to the way she slurred her words for it was muddled, filtered through the liquor that suffused your complexion a deep red blush.

Then in the next second, you were spinning with the world, there were hands grappling you on the length of a couch, the stench of wine soaking your consciousness, you knew it was her without seeing her, you tasted her lipstick, felt her cold hands dragging up your waist with slight scratch from her nails. You felt as if your skin wanted to tear away from your skeleton and claw into hers as her bitter sweet lips and sharp teeth clashed against yours fervently. She extracted every last breath out of you before you parted.

Each inhalation made you all the more drunk on her, yet the answer to her previous question laid sober in your mind, only to be squished off with another press of her lips, her lipstick fading off layer by layer, embedding along the expanse of neck and smearing right by the corner of your lips.

When you tore away from her, chest heaving with breaths, your senses torn apart with wine and her fragrance, you spoke your mind with a "no," in a complete daze. It was only when she glanced sluggishly at you that you truly unraveled yourself to her. "I wasn't here for the liquor."

It seemed that something formulated in her, blocks and pieces swirling together before you thought you caught a spark of realisation in her eyes, then her lips clashed with yours again, muddling out your thoughts yet it was diffident this time, her touch trembled upon your bare waist, she hid it, securing her grip on you. She couldn't say it, not here, not in the spur of the moment, when her senses were blurred out. Perhaps when the glare of the sun enlightened her on the matter once more, her decision would charge head first into her unrelentingly, to stay or to stay.

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