“No,” I tell her, like she’s a disobedient pet.
“Oh come on, you liked it.” She gives me a ridiculously exaggerated eyebrow wiggle and elbow to the side.
I’m hoping she doesn't know how much I liked it. I’m also hoping she’ll be compliant in somehow making a break for itout of the tavern without everyone seeing my stained crotch. It’s going to be dicey getting her to do anything right now, given the state the wine has left her in.
Damn fairies.
“Hey.” I let my voice be cheerful, despite the position I’m in. “I need your help with something.”
Daphne’s eyes light up, and she switches from handsy vixen to more of a helpful camp counselor.
“I can do it, whatever it is.” She’s locked in, as much as someone who is incredibly drunk can be.
“I left my jacket at home, and it’s awfully cold.” I do my best impression of a shiver, and I’m lucky she’s inebriated because I’m sure it’s not convincing. I’ve never shivered in my life.
“Oh!” She puts her arm on my bicep and says sympathetically, “It’s so cold out, I’m surprised you didn’t freeze on the way over.”
Yes, drunk enough not to realize how ridiculous it would be for me to be cold. This stupid plan might work.
“Do you want me to go get it?” she says as she starts to exit the booth. I yank her back before she’s able to stand completely. Daphne hits the booth with a dull thud, her head lolling back until she’s looking up at me, mouth slightly parted.
I wish she wasn’t drunk so I could kiss those lips.
“Maybe you could stand in front of me to block the wind?” It’s a very stupid request, but I bat my lashes for full effect.
She doesn’t blink, like her brain is buffering, before she gives me a lazy smile.
“Great idea!” She goes to stand again, and this time I let her, while I make it a point to follow closely behind my human shield.
She reaches back behind me and grabs my hand. “You ready to face the cold together?” she asks with all the gusto of an Everest mountain climber.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I whisper, loving the feeling of our fingers intertwined.
She sets her jaw and starts a strange stomp-like walk toward the tavern’s front door. Her movements are bizarre, like she’s walking uphill on a flat surface. Every step is a struggle for her wobbly ankles and knees.
The other townies are starting to notice that she’s plastered as I put my free hand on her shoulder to help steer her on the path. There’s a hush in the conversation that’s been drowning out most other sounds in the space.
We make it to the front door of the bar eventually, and just before I open the door, I yell over my shoulder.
“Fairy wine? Am I right? I’m gonna make sure she gets home safely.” There’s a lull, but eventually they continue with their conversations, and thankfully no one notices the load I’ve shot in my own pants.
As the cold air hits us, Daphne tenses. She makes herself as big as possible to break the wind for me, even though I can tell the air stings her face as she squints and bunches up her nose.
I say a silent thanks that my truck is only parked a few spaces down the street because she seems pretty miserable, despite her efforts to keep me warm.
She even goes as far as to walk to the driver’s side first and opens my door for me. I hate it, but I know that if I argue with her in this state that it’ll take more time, and the poor unfurry human is going to lose all the more heat.
She closes the door behind me, and I turn on the truck and heating quickly. She makes it around the front of the truck quickly, and jumps into the passenger side with a speed that lets me know she was really feeling the chill in the air.
I grab her hands, and put them up against a vent, trying to warm them through. She sighs and slumps back.
“We did it!”
“We did.” I chuckle and lean over to click her seatbelt.
“You’re always taking care of me, it’s nice to be able to take care of you,” she whispers, eyes closed.
“I like it, you know,” I mutter.
