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You Sure You're Not Dating

You Sure You're Not Dating

The wedding deejay played songs that were a bit ... expected. The attendees were all dressed in their fancy new dresses and suits and ties. Drinks were pouring left and right, and the conversations were heavy with laughter. Ronan sat at his table, sipping on his whiskey with his elbow on the table, eyeing the dancing crowd and the drunkards who should have stopped a while ago with his wolfish gaze. He wasn't necessarily bored, but he wasn't necessarily having the best time either. He was there because one of his friends from college were getting married and he forgot to decline the RSVP before they just pushed him through.

Thankfully, they let him bring a plus one and he brought Nikita. She was always eager to attend social events. He looked at his date sitting next to him in her maroon satin dress hung only by thin straps, munching away at the food. He chuckled to himself. When does she not just eat wherever she goes? He hadn't really noticed it before, but she as quite fair. She hardly ever wore clothes that didn't cover her up, but she was too excited to match with him that she just bought the first dress that had the same color as his suit - maroon. She kept her hair down, but it kept getting in her food. 

"Here," Ronan said as he tucked a strand over her shoulder. "Eat slower...you look like a homeless person that I brought." He groaned a bit when she pouted with a full mouth. "And chew your food, why don't you?" 

Nikita gulped down her food before grumbling back, "You're one to talk. Keep sipping on that drink and everyone will think that you're too old to be attending these parties now!" 

A woman at their table overheard and asked, "Are you to dating?"

Immediately, Ronan and Nikita's face turned into a heavy sneer, scaring the woman. 

"Us? Dating?" Nikita asked laughing. "No way! I just stick around because he knows all the good places to eat." 

"And I stick around because she makes an easy plus one that I don't have to worry about," Ronan rebuked. 

"Oh, sorry." The woman laughed with a little bit too much wine in her blood. "The way you guys act and talk to each other reminds me of my parents a little." She giggled to herself and went back to looking at the people on the dance floor. 

Ronan looked down at Nikita's petite figure, munching away at her food again. Date her? Sure, she was tiny, which made her cute. Butt she was also bubbly, which he liked. Although her normal attire is like an old lady with her cardigans and flowy skirts, she does have a nice body that she hides. They go to the gym together, so it's not like he doesn't know how hard she worked for it either. Yeah, I mean, she's cute. She's pretty fun to be around or else he wouldn't be friends with her, right? Ugh, but the one thing that really annoyed him ... was her naivety. 

She's 31, but what was it she always says? Oh yeah... She always believes in the good side of people. He groaned internally remembering how many times he's had to tell her that the men who were wrapping their arms around her were not being friendly but wanted to feel her breasts. 

"Ronan," Nikita groaned. "I ate too much!" She slumped in her chair, rubbing her belly. She didn't realize her dress was about to expose her in that position. 

"That's why you need to control what you eat..." Ronan said before sipping on his drink to avoid staring down too much. 

She sat back up straight to grab her glass of water, but found it empty. 

"I got you!" her neighbor took her glass and poured tequila all the way to the brim. Nikita looked at it with nervous laughter but brushed it off as her neighbor decided to hold a toast. "To the bride and groom!" 

Everyone stood up. Ronan looked to Nikita who held her glass up. "Just sip it," he whispered, but realized too late that even in her heels, she was still just a 5'2" woman in 6 inch heels. 

Everyone clinked their glasses and Ronan took a sip out of his whiskey. When he looked down at Nikita, his face was in disbelief. The glass was full of tequila... she chugged it?! He took the glass out of her hand, though it was too late already. 

"Did you really drink that whole thing?" 

"Yeah!" Nikita said a bit too proudly. 

"Why?" 

"I didn't want to kill the mood," she said with a pout. 

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Ronan groaned. 

"Don't worry," Nikita said nonchalantly. "I'm going to go out soon for some air, I'll be good. Plus, I ate, so that's even better!"

Ronan shook his head and sat back in his chair, watching her. Wait...when was the last time he's seen her drink? She always usually only had water. Did she drink? He couldn't remember. 

Nikita suddenly shot up standing and leaned into Ronan. Her hand was on his shoulder and right next to his face as she whispered into his ear, leaning in a ninety degree angle. "I'm going to go get some fresh air. I'm starting to feel hot already." 

Ronan waved his hand for her to go and to not bother you. He watched her, just making sure she wasn't drunk already. She was wobbling in between chairs, people, and tables. She was wagging her hips side to side trying to avoiding everybody. Ronan laughed to himself as he took another sip. The outdoor balcony was on the other side of the room and he watched until she finally opened the doors. 

"Ronan?" his friend asked at the table. 

"What?" 

"Are you sure you two aren't dating?" his friend asked inquisitively. 

"No!"

"Why not? She's clearly hot. And you're a good looking guy. Plus you've been friends for how long now?"

"Ten years..." he said, hiding in his glass. 

"Ten years! So what are you waiting for?" 

"I'm not waiting for anything. Do you know how much trouble she is?" Ronan asked with a sigh. He looked towards the doors to the balcony and saw a man walk outside. "See?" he asked, pointing frustratingly at another attendee going outside. He whisked up his jacket and took long strides to the door. 

"Hey," the woman at the table asked, "What's that all about?" 

"That's Ronan and Nikita. They've been friends for ten years. I swear they're great for each other, but they insist on being friends. I don't know..." Ronan's friends said with a shrug. "It's about time they act like adults." 

Outside, Nikita her arms, trying to keep herself warm in the chilly spring air. Goddamn it. She didn't wear a jacket thinking that it'd be still fine at night and now she's barely able to keep her body still. Yet, she enjoyed the stars in the sky and tried to breathe in the air.

The door opened and shut. She turned around and saw another wedding attendee. He was clearly drunk, unstable when walking. 

"Hello," Nikita calmly greeted. 

"Oh hi!" he said. "What are you doing out here? You cold?" 

"I'm okay," Nikita said, though she was visibly shaking. 

"Come here," he slurred. The man came straight towards Nikita and though she did try to step out the way, he swung his arm around her. His hand was too close to her chest, but she shrunk her shoulders in so he wouldn't touch. 

"I'm okay, but thank you." Nikita smiled sweetly. 

The man didn't say much other than slurring something that she didn't understand. She held him up with her shoulders, but he was starting to tighten his grip and she was unable to get him off. 

"Hey..." Ronan's deep voice cut through the chilly air. 

Under the moonlight and his back to the glimmer of indoors, Ronan looked like a shadowy rogue. His eyes were sharp and it seemed to gleam although he had dark brown eyes. 

Ronan swiftly made his way over to Nikita, pulled the man's arm off her shoulders, and stood firmly between the two. Ronan looked at the man with a glare that would've frightened anybody. The man left, still drunkenly slurring his words about going to the bathroom. 

"What are you doing out here?" Nikita asked. 

"What are you doing with a drunk on your arms?" Ronan asked. He threw the jacket over her shoulders, tucking it in under her chin so she was fully covered. 

"He was just drunk. Don't be so mean." She pouted at him. 

"And you think being drunk doesn't mean he would've tried something with you out here while you're alone? This is why I can't leave you alone, because you put yourself in these situations." 

"I guess it's a good thing you came out. You need some air too?" 

Ronan sighed. "Yeah. I just wanted some air." He paused for a moment. "Why did you drink that whole glass of tequila? You'll be extra drunk. I hardly ever see you drink." 

"Oh..." Nikita turned around. "Didn't I tell you? I haven't had a sip since Michael -" She bit her lip but quickly smiled before turning around. "I just didn't want to ruin the vibe! Everyone was having a great time." She smiled, but something was ... off. 

That's right, Ronan thought. This was the same safe she had when they first met. 

He was waiting in a quiet cafe sipping on his hot coffee, watching a nervous Nikita rubbing her hands together nervously. She was looking down, unsure of where to look. He didn't know what she had to talk to him about. After all, everyone blamed her for his bother, Michael's, death. And yet, here she was in front of him. 

She looked like she wanted to speak but she barely opened her mouth each time. 

"Just say it," Ronan muttered into his coffee. "I won't be mad." 

And as if she finally received the permission she needed, she clasped her fingers together, and looked him straight into his eyes. Her bold, curious, wide-eyed expression of confidence exuded from her. 

"Please tell me about Michael!" she declared so loudly. 

Ronan stopped midway from drinking. He didn't expect that. An apology or anger...either one would have made sense. But she anted memories of Michael. She wanted to know who he was despite the fact his death was the reason why her peers turned their backs on her. He didn't understand, but in that moment, he saw a girl who boldly declared she wanted to know her savior. And from that moment on, he decided to respect her wishes. 

That's how it started. Their friendship was built on tragedy but built on memories. And for a decade their relationship started mournful and grew into a friendship neither expected. 

Ronan never thought about it too much, but Nikita was right...he's never seen her drink since Michael's death. It's been a decade and she hadn't had a sip. But here was she...drunk on a whole glass of tequila. He sighed. He stepped closer to her petite frame and held her shoulders. 

"if you didn't want to drink, then don't. Come on, you'll get a cold. Let's go inside."

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