Page 24 of Perfect Chaos

“Pretty and smart, look at you go.”

I grip Gavin's chin, tapping his bottom lip. “Open.”

He hesitates as if scrutinizing my request. “What are you about to do?”

“What, you don’t trust me? Just open your mouth, Gavin.”

He hesitates a moment as if thinking through his options before finally parting his lips for me. I brush my thumb along his bottom lip, thinking about how soft they were when he kissed me out of my panic attack. I shake the thought away. Taking a mouthful of Atlas’ whiskey, I spit half it into Gavin's mouth before turning to Atlas and repeating the process. Atlas pulls me onto his lap, his lips crashing against mine hard enough to steal my breath away.

“Alright, Chaos. I think it’s time we head home.” He pulls away, shaking his head but laughing at my antics.

“Ugh! You’re no fun. At least let me drink the margarita I just paid for.” I gulp down my drink before he gets the chance to protest. Gavin stares at me in bewilderment while Atlas rubs his temples like I am getting on his last nerve. Good, that was the goal. Now let's see if I can still get my way.

I run my fingers through Atlas’ hair, planting a kiss on his jaw before whispering in his ear. “If I promise to behave, can we stay for a little longer? I’m having fun. I don’t want to go home yet.”

Atlas looks me up and down like he doesn’t believe me for a second. He is probably right in his assumption, but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to try harder to get whatever I want. “Do you even know what the word behave means, Chaos?”

I have to bite my tongue to hold back the scoff that almost slipped out. Of course I know what behave means. It’s just boring. I give him my best puppy dog eyes to plead my case. “Please, Sir. I promise to be on my best behavior."

Atlas looks to Gavin like they are having a silent conversation, probably asking him if he is okay with staying longer, before sighing in defeat. “Fine. We can stay, but please try to stay out of trouble and keep your drinks to a minimum.”

My arms wrap around Atlas, giving him a quick squeeze in excitement. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He and Gavin both chuckle at my antics as I finally scramble off Atlas’ lap, pulling him along with me. “Come dance with me.”

Atlas lets me drag him to the makeshift dance floor where several others are already dancing. He pulls me to him, using his hold on my waist to guide my movements to the beat. Dancing is not something I normally do sober, but I feel like it could be fun if I tried. Sober me usually lacks the confidence to dance in front of people, but with the way Atlas is looking at me right now, it's hard to care about what anyone else might think. His blue eyes twinkle with love and lust as he pulls me closer. The song changes into something almost sultry. The tempo is fast enough that my heart races the baseline, making it impossible not to roll my hips along with the beat. I get lost in the grinding against Atlas, his scent of orange and clove giving me a sense of being in a safe place. Eucalyptus and mint bleed into the aroma, the mixture becoming intoxicating. It's only there for a moment before it's gone. There are too many moving bodies to pinpoint where it came from. The DJ transitions into the next song with a similar beat as Atlas's eyes flick over my shoulder. A hint of a smirk twitches on his lips before I can turn around to see what his attention is on. Something solid connects with my back, pushing me flush against Atlas. I tense, not knowing who is behind me.

“Do you mind if I dance with you, Little Tornado?” His chest rumbles against my back as Gavin almost growls the words into my ear.

I relax at the sound of his voice. At least he is not a stranger. I look to Atlas to gauge his reaction, but he only gives a curt nod, like the decision is entirely up to me. Fuck it. What could go wrong?

“No, I don't mind. As long as you don't care that I can't really dance.”

“You look like you're doing just fine to me. And we can guide you; don't think too hard. Have fun with it.”

They repositioned me to where I'm practically straddling Atlas's thigh. While Gavin is completely molded to my back, both sets of hands caress my body while guiding me against them to the beat. My brain short-circuits. I've never been sandwiched between two warm bodies while dancing before. My heart is beating out of my chest. I try to convince myself that it's just the anxiety of dancing, but the fact that their touches set my skin on fire, while liquid pools in my center, only proves I'm being delusional. I try to just enjoy it while the song plays on, but it's becoming too much to process, too much to think about.

I'm in love with Atlas, so why is my body craving Gavin's touch as well? I need a fucking drink and space to clear my head. “I need to use the restroom and get a drink.”

“You okay?” I force a smile at Atlas's question, trying to shove the panic back down. I slip between the boys, rushing towards the bathroom, snatching a shot from the bartender's tray on my way. I down the shot, discarding it on an empty table, hoping the boys didn't see. Entering the bathroom, I bypass the line of girls waiting for a stall, heading straight for the sink.

My reflection in the mirror is someone I almost don't recognize. My cheeks are rosy. My pupils are blown wide.

I splash water on my face, patting it dry with the paper towel before heading back to the boys, taking one last look in the mirror on my way out.

They are not on the dance floor where I left them. I spin in a quick circle, looking for them. Finally, I spot them back in the booth. I try to remain in control of my emotions as I stomp my way to where they are. They don’t need to know that I am seconds away from completely spiraling. Sliding into the booth next to Atlas, I still feel like I need a drink to level out my nerves. I snatch the new glass of whiskey from in front of Atlas, gulping down the contents before slamming the glass back on the table. It’s not quite enough. I reach for Gavin's drink as well, but his grip on my wrist stops me.

“I don’t think that's a good idea.” His voice is hesitant, like he is unsure if it’s his place to say it. Unfortunately for him, his tone and sentence piss me off.

My words spew out before I can stop them. “You are not my Daddy, Gavin. Mind your fu-”

“Enough, Maizyn!” Atlas growls, cutting off my tantrum. The words are sharp with tension bleeding through his voice. He may sound angry, but I know him well enough to hear the pain hidden underneath.

I pushed too far and not in the way I wanted to. My eyes begin to water. I divert my gaze trying to hide the emotions welling up. Atlas has never yelled at me like that. Warm fingers grip my chin as Atlas forces me to look at him.

“I’m sorry, Chaos. I didn’t mean to yell. We are just worried about what happened last time you were here drinking. I have no doubt the panic attack was terrifying for you, but I don’t think I could handle seeing you go through another one that bad again… It killed me. Not having any control over the situation and not being able to help you. I think drinking had a role in triggering it and it’s not worth the risk.”

“It’s okay. Let’s just go.” The words sound flat even to my own ears. I just wanted to forget everything for a little bit, not make it worse. This is just another example of me being TOO MUCH. I slide off the bench, removing myself from the booth and the rest of this conversation. I feel myself shutting down, locking all of my feelings into a tiny box inside my head so they can’t touch me. My feet take over, carrying me outside to the car, not waiting for the boys to catch up. I know they still have to pay the bill before meeting me out here. I slide down the car door when I reach it, using the tire as a backrest as I sit on the dirty ground. Resting my head on my knees, I roll a small pebble between my fingers. Why does my brain always hate me?

The sound of crunching gravel alerts me to the boys’ arrival. Atlas holds out his hand to help me but I am stubborn and refuse it. Instead, I push myself to my feet, brush off the dirt from my skirt, and open the back door as soon as I hear the click of the lock disengaging. Atlas and Gavin climb into the car after me without a single word. Gavin is driving; Atlas is in the passenger seat. Both of them are giving me the space that I wanted. They don’t say anything the entire ride home. The only sound in the car is the soft hum of the radio. The air feels thick with everything we are not putting into words. They keep looking at me through the rearview mirror. I know what they keep searching for. They are waiting for any signs of a panic attack. I try to ignore them. After the third or fourth time, I resorted to picking at my nails while looking out the window. I may not be watching them, but I still feel their eyes burning into me.