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CAUTION: SWEARING AND KISSING AND DRINKING AND STUFF

Your mind still whirled as you tried to comprehend all of the information your mind was just forced to absorb as you walked through the streets of the small Scottish town side by side with the only other girl in your semester abroad group. Kurai-she refused to be called anything else, much less her real name- seemed completely at ease as she stretched, yawning loudly.

“How can you do that?” you asked her, skeptical about how she could have qualified for the semester abroad in Scotland when she didn’t seem to care about her grades or future at all.

Kurai shrugged. “Chill dude, not everything that teacher says is important. The guy is boring as hell anyways, so why bother when the powerpoint is going to be online?”

You stared at her in awe, unable to comprehend what she was saying. “But it’s important to listen to the teacher Kurai! I want to do well so I can get a good-“

“Get a good job, live a white picket fence life, yadda yadda. You’ve told me seven times before. I’ve been keeping count.” You blushed, averting your eyes to the pavement below. You had a nasty habit of repeating yourself because you forgot just what stories had been told and which ones hadn’t.

“Anyways," she continued, "you need to stop focusing on the future so much! Get drunk, fuck a stranger, live a little! There’s going to be a party nearby and you’re coming with me, even if I have to drag you there myself. See ya at nine!”

Kurai departed with a sarcastic wave and headed off to her dorm room, leaving you behind to wonder what exactly had just happened. It was no secret that your entire life had been devoted toward your grades, leaving little room for activities and trivial things like parties and shopping. You never had a boyfriend, or many friends for that matter. Perhaps it was time you enjoyed yourself a little.

Besides…it was only for one night.

xXxXxXx

True to her word, Kurai appeared at your dorm room at nine o’clock, and by the look on her face she had expected to see you studying at your desk, not dressed in an electric blue mini dress with a black studded belt dangling from her waist.

“Damn, why the hell don’t you dress like this more often? Guys would be drooling all over you,” she said as if your (rather skimpy) outfit was perfectly normal conversation.
“That’s exactly why I don’t.”

The rest of the walk was completed, a comfortable silence soon broken by the pulsing sound of music coming from a house about a hundred feet away.

“Here we are! And remember what I said!” Kurai shouted before disappearing into the house. You reluctantly followed, making your way through the crushing mass of people to the drink table. Much to your dismay, all they had was various forms of alcohol, so you helped yourself to a beer and took a sip. The drink was bitter, but not unpleasantly so, and you quickly finished it and joined the swarm of people bobbing up and down on what you could only assume was a dance floor.

A few beers later and you were dancing your heart out with a random guy, more than a little tipsy and having the time of your life. Before you knew it, an arm had wrapped around your waist. You looked up to see one of the most handsome guys you had ever seen (you were hoping that this wasn’t because of the alcohol). His masculine face was complemented by green eyes and shocking red hair, and when he spoke, it was with the most gorgeous Scottish accent you had heard.

“Care fer a dance, lassie?” he asked with a knee-weakening smirk, and all you could do was nod your head. An upbeat song with distinct Celtic roots began to play, loud cheers arose from the crowd at the song choice and the dance floor began to expand, giving each pair enough space to perform what you could only assume was some kind of jig, based on how most of the other couples were dancing.

In the back of your mind, you identified the song as ‘Devil’s Dance Floor’ by a band named Flogging Molly, but all you could care about was keeping up with the dance and your partner. After noticing that you were failing hopelessly at the dancing, the man lead you off the floor and out of the house. You followed along like a puppy, and soon he was kissing you.

The kiss itself was wet and sloppy and yet it was the best thing that had ever happened to you. A warm tongue parted your lips and you allowed him access to your mouth, simply submitting to the kiss. His hands held you steady. His mouth left yours and began to trail kisses down your jawline, and down, down, down your neck. You moaned slightly, and you felt him smirk against your skin.

“W-wait,” you moaned, coherent thought just barely in your grasp and you were going to take advantage of it.

His lips left your neck as he raised his head to look you in the eyes, and you realized that he was more than a little drunk himself. “What is it lassie?” he growled, apparently angered at the protest.

“N-not here,” you panted, and with another heart-melting smirk, he grasped your hand and led you to an apartment building, up the stairs (you only stumbled a few times), and into a room and then you were pushed against the wall and the kissing began again.

xXxXxXx

The light worked its way to your sensitive eyes as they slowly opened. You head pounded, and you wondered just exactly how much you had drunk the night before. You moved to get up, but it was apparent you were going nowhere, not as long as the muscular arm stayed wrapped around your waist.

Your stomach plummeted when you realized just what had occurred the night before, regret twisting your stomach as all of the consequences swirled around your mind. You didn’t even know this man’s name.

The arm tightened around you, drawing you back to the Scottish man. “It’s too early t’ be up, lassie. Go back t’ sleep,” he murmured, nuzzling your hair slightly, and you allowed yourself to relax into his arms and drift off to sleep.

Kurai was right. Sometimes enjoying life was the right thing to do.

We’re all just dancers
On the Devil’s dance floor