Ravan's POV
In the bright, colourful lights of the party, Rowan's opalescent eyes shimmered like an oil-slick on water, concealing a thinly-veiled anger underneath their beautiful surface.
He hadn't even moved when I bumped into him and in my drunken state, I poked my finger into the front of his chest to make sure he was a real person. As I touched him, I realised the absurdity of the situation and began to giggle, alerting Gael to what was happening. Rowan did not look amused but in the crush of partying people, all of them dancing to the pulsating beats of Lady Gaga's 'Bad Romance,' his complete stillness, impeccable black winged eyeliner, and hostile posture seemed so out of place that I couldn't stop myself from laughing even louder.
"I need to talk to you," Rowan barely got out through gritted teeth, reaching out to grab my shoulders and pull me away from the crowd. Gael called out after me but his voice was quickly lost in the too loud music.
It didn't even cross my mind to be worried as I followed this gorgeous boy down a hallway and into a bedroom that I assumed was Rylan's, my hand engulfed by his larger one, which was strangely clammy.
The room was large and sparsely decorated, but the floor was covered by a soft, fluffy, silver carpet that I immediately wanted to lie down on. It reminded me of Rylan's hair in a way, only better because, to my knowledge, it couldn't talk or do maths.
Rowan seemed to realise that he was still gripping my hand and so suddenly that as though it had burned him, taking a few steps back from me quickly. I frowned at this and stumbled forward to close the distance between us again.
"Why are you being so weeeeiird?" I slurred. This close, I could smell the dense scent of alcohol on Rowan's breath as well.
The smell of the beer he had drank mixed with the smell of vodka that I had, was an interesting combination, somehow not entirely too bad.
"I..." Rowan took a few seconds to figure out what he was going to say, blinking slowly. "Why were you dancing with him?" He started angrily, "he is not your mate! You're going against the natural... thingy!"
I raised my eyebrows in confusion. Gael was my friend. Was this a gay thing? "What the fuck are you talking about? Gael is my best mate foreverrr! I can dance with him whenever I want to!" I retorted angrily.
Rowan shook his head, brown hair falling in front of his face. "You don't understand! Rylan-"
I interrupted him with a derisive snort. "Rylan can go fuck himself! I hate him and his dumb maths triangles!"
"It's called trigonometry," a darkly familiar voice interjected from behind me.
Both Rowan and I turned slowly in unison to see Rylan standing in the doorway with his arms folded, a glare as intense as Rowan's evident in his face. Luckily, he only spared me a quick glance before rounding on Rowan.
"Why the hell was I just enjoying myself downstairs at my own fucking party when I caught a whiff of her," he jabbed a sharp fingernail at me, "In my room?"
Rowan's eyes darted from side to side, looking slightly nervous. "She needs to know, babe," he insisted. "If you won't tell her, I will."
I looked between the two of them in complete confusion, very intoxicated and living for the drama. Rowan turned to me, his face set in determination, but in a few quick strides, Rylan crossed the room and grabbed him, shoving me aside in the process.
On unsteady legs, I teetered dangerously close to completely falling over and my vision began to bloom with blackened spots. When I opened my eyes again, Rylan was yelling, and for a second I could have sworn I saw sharp, glinting fangs revealed in the pale moonbeams slanting through the curtains.
"YOU TWO SHOULDN'T EVEN BE IN THE SAME ROOM," he said viscously. "Just because she's our mate doesn't change the rules!"
Rowan glared straight back, livid. Not gonna lie, I thought it was pretty hot, but there was no way I would ever be friends with someone like Rylan. Stupid stuck up nerd.
"She is clearly very drunk," he pointed out, gesturing to me.
I giggled again as they both looked at me. "You have preeeeetty eyes," I mumbled, my head lolling to the side.
Rylan just scoffed and let go of Rowan. "Both of you are fucked. I'm calling off the party and then I'm going to walk her home," he snarled before turning on his heel and striding angrily out the room.
Smiling loopily at Rowan one final time, I wandered off to find some more alcohol.
Rylan's POV
After about an hour of rounding up a bunch of very drunk, confused teenagers, I finally got around to dealing with Ravan. Someone had made the mistake of giving her more vodka and she was sprawled on the couch when I found her, queasy but thankfully nowhere near Rowan.
I was still furious at both of them but after the night I just had, I couldn't be bothered yelling anymore; my voice was absolutely dead. Instead, I fixed my face into a scowl and approached Ravan, helping her to her feet without saying anything. Unfortunately, the second I let go of her arm, she looked dangerously close to toppling over, so I had to half-carry her out of the house while she giggled and spouted drunken nonsense in my ear.
This close, her scent was inescapable and undeniable. It had an indescribable flavour that brought to mind cold winter nights spent huddled on the floor, a pile of lego slowly being turned into an intricate, colourful construction. Even with the cool night breeze and the many scents of the city my heightened senses were usually attuned to, all I could smell was her.
I certainly didn't feel the immediate attraction I had for Rowan for her. In fact, it was almost the opposite. Under the sparse light of the dim streetlights haloing Ravan's ebony hair, I couldn't quite hate her.
The moon was almost full, and the fragment of wilderness in me wanted to howl.