You sighed as you watched the familiar albino figure walk over to a crowd of women. You'd have thought he'd already learned his lesson; he just didn't know how to interact with people, especially to women. He'd been shot down more times than anybody you knew, but every time he just kept getting back up, wiping the slap marks from his face and walking over to another group. All those whacks on the head must have given him some brain damage; he was probably one of the densest people in the world. Not that that stopped him being attractive; boy was he attractive.
You had no idea how long you'd been in love with the idiot. What you did know, on the other hand, was how long you'd known you were. Which was, at that moment, 3 years, 7 months, 1 week, 2 days, 4 hours and 37 minutes. Not that you were obsessed at all. Nope. You knew there was no way in hell he would ever like you, knew there was no way he'd look at you with the same possessive tone he looked at women with. You'd accepted that, accepted that you were doomed to a lonely life, your only solace being pencil lead pornography and a worn, dirty sock. At least, you thought you'd accepted it; you still didn't know if you could stand one more night of having to listen to what happened when he actually did pull. When it happened, you couldn't help but wish it was you in the bed next door, couldn't help wishing it was your moans keeping the neighbours awake, couldn't help wishing it was you name that Gilbert was screaming to the heavens.
Gilbert's voice tore you from your thoughts, forcing you to look at him. He still wore his characteristic smirk, but his eyes seemed duller than usual, like he was just smiling for appearance's sake. He was only a single step away from you, his lips so close you could almost touch them
He laughed. "I'm getting some beer; wanna come."
You shook your head. "I prefer being able to wake up and remember what happened."
He shrugged, before heading towards the bar. You breathed out, only just noticing that your heart rate had increased rapidly. He was teasing you now, putting his face so close to yours. If he wasn't so dense, you'd say he was doing it on purpose. You sighed, sitting back down at the table and taking a large swig of coke, trying to cool yourself down. It was ridiculously hot in here and you weren't just talking about the heating.
You stayed there for about half an hour. A few girls came up to try to talk to you, but you shrugged them off. Your mind was on Gilbert anyway. He shouldn't have been taking that long to get a couple of drinks. You took a couple of seconds to think, before standing up and heading towards the bar to find him. He was quite easy to spot; one of the advantages of having an albino friend, you supposed. But it was only as you neared him that you realised what was really going on. And it was not a pretty sight.
"I thought you said you could hold your liquor."
"I can", he slurred, "That's why I got so much."
The guy was utterly surrounded by empty bottles, stretched out on the table like a cat in the sun. It wasn't the sort of thing you'd expected to find; this was much more the kind of thing you'd expect from somebody like Arthur. Not Gil. Definitely not Gil.
"You were trying to get drunk!"
It wasn't a question, but Gil answered it anyway. "Ja. What did you *hic* expect?"
You gaped. What the hell was he doing? And why? You'd seen him go through so much worse than what had just happened and you'd never seen him resort to the bottle like this. You sighed, pulling out your phone to call a taxi. If anything, you were going to make absolutely sure he managed to get back to your apartment safely.
"I'm gonna have to carry you to the taxi, aren't I?"
He shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine."
"You're pissed off your face."
"No I'm not."
"Yes you are."
Gil pulled himself up from the table, only to lean backwards, his eyes rolling in the same manner. At least the soft bench gave him a headrest, you murmured to yourself. Your eyes shifted down his body slightly, admiring the view his now open shirt offered. You blushed slightly as Gil's red gaze shifted back to you, looking nothing less than triumphant.
"I love ya, [Name]."
The hairs at the back of your neck stood on edge. "What?"
"I said I love ya."
You shook your head, forcing yourself to think straight, secretly hoping Gil would deny your next comment. "That's the alcohol talking."
Unfortunately, he didn't. "Yeah, probably."
You sighed, a slight twinge of disappointment forming in your chest. Though hey, what had you expected? Gil so obviously liked women. What chance did some scrawny guy like you stand? You drummed a hand on the table, your phone hanging at your side. It served you right, you guessed.
Served you right for falling in love with a player.