Everyone drank to their heart content. Jean tried ti warn everyone.
"Don't get drunk, don't, at least this time," she kept telling everybody while she also drank. Everyone liked the mulled wine.
"This is too good to stop," Millie replied.
Naila had one glass of it and did not like it much. But she pured one more glass to blend in with people.
"Don't let her drink more than two," Luke warned everyone.
"Got it," Jean responded. "Why did you never drink Naila?" Naila had no idea how to answer that. "Why are you drinking now?"
Naila looked at Luke, her eyes pleading for help.
"Why do you care? Why are you always getting drunk?" Luke decided to piss off Jean.
"Fine," Jean stopped. "Carry on with your fake wife " she said and got up, walking towards the Flammkuchen stall and order for more.
"Their Flammkuchen is really yum. I liked the one with meat," Millie said as she watched Jean making an order.
"I liked it too," Naila agreed. "It's thin and yum." Luke walked over towards Jean and helped her carry the plates. He sat opposite at the head of the table, far across Naila.
The conversation around the table flowed effortlessly, everyone chattering about work, upcoming projects, and the ever-demanding modeling industry. Luke was just as engaged, occasionally adding his own thoughts and drawing laughter from the others.
Naila, meanwhile, sat quietly, nursing her wine as she took in the world around her. The Christmas lights shimmered against the night sky, the decorations glowed with a festive charm, and the gigantic Christmas tree stood tall, adorned with twinkling stars and ornaments. Beyond the table, food stalls filled the air with delicious aromas, while people wandered about, their laughter blending with the soft hum of Christmas music.
Something about it all made her feel warm inside. For once, she allowed herself to simply exist in the moment, without worrying about tomorrow.
The wine, however, was beginning to take effect.
She reached for her third glass.
Luke noticed immediately.
His gaze shifted toward Jean, who was seated beside Naila. He subtly gestured toward Naila's glass, then made a small motion with his hand, silently asking Jean to stop her before she had any more.
Jean blinked at him, utterly confused.
"What?" she mouthed.
Luke's expression changed in an instant. He lifted his glass as though he had been doing nothing at all.
"What?" he replied innocently.
Jean narrowed her eyes at him, unconvinced, but Luke had already turned his attention back to Naila.
He didn't say much after that. The others continued their lively conversation, and he occasionally joined in, but his attention kept drifting toward her.
He knew she didn't quite feel like she belonged among them. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar faces, the endless conversations about an industry she wasn't part of, or simply the feeling of being an outsider in a room full of people who knew one another so well.
Naila watched the people passing by, her gaze lingering on the little moments around her. A couple laughing beneath the lights. A child tugging at her mother's hand. Friends taking photographs in front of the enormous tree.
And Luke watched her.
He sat with his body slightly leaned toward the table, his left hand supporting his head while his right held a glass of wine. There was something effortlessly charming about the way he listened to the others, occasionally smiling, his silverware catching the warm glow of the Christmas lights.
Every now and then, his eyes returned to Naila.
He couldn't quite explain why he found himself doing it so often. Perhaps it was the way the lights softened her features. Perhaps it was the quiet wonder in her eyes as she watched the festivities. Or perhaps it was simply that, amidst all the noise and laughter, she had become the one person he wanted to look at.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
He didn't even realize he was smiling until Naila's gaze slowly wandered toward him.
For a fleeting moment, their eyes met.
She caught him looking at her.
And then, just as quickly, she realized she had been looking at him, too.
Her heart stumbled.
Luke didn't look away. He simply held her gaze, his head still resting against his hand, a quiet amusement lingering in his eyes. There was no teasing in his expression, only a softness that made it all the more difficult for her to look at him.
Naila's fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass.
Two seconds.
That was all she managed.
She immediately turned her attention elsewhere, pretending to be fascinated by the Christmas lights across the market, her cheeks growing warmer than the wine could possibly explain.
Luke's smile deepened.
He said nothing.
But for the rest of the evening, every time Naila dared to glance in his direction, she had the unsettling feeling that his eyes were already waiting for her.
By the time Naila finished her fourth glass of wine, she was thoroughly drunk. The warmth that had settled pleasantly inside her had turned into a dizzying haze. The lights blurred, the conversations became indistinct, and before long, everything around her seemed to fade into a pleasant, incomprehensible blankness.
By the end of the evening, almost everyone had succumbed to the wine. Only Luke and Sean remained sober enough to take charge.
Between the two of them, they managed to get everyone back to the cars and driver them home. The girls were settled inside Naila's room, while Matt and Sean decided to spend the night in the living room.
The house gradually fell quiet.
Luke, exhausted from the evening, freshened up and changed into his pajamas. As he stepped out of the shower, a thought crossed his mind.
I wonder what Naila's doing.
He shook his head slightly, dismissing the thought, and walked over to his bed. Sitting at the edge of it, he began drying his damp hair with a towel, his mind wandering aimlessly.
Then he heard footsteps.
Soft. Unsteady.
Luke paused.
The sound grew closer, followed by the faint rustle of bedsheets.
He slowly turned his head.
And froze.
Someone was crawling into his bed.
For a moment, he simply stared, the towel forgotten in his hands. His brows lifted in surprise as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
Then he recognized her.
Naila.
His lips parted slightly, caught between disbelief and amusement.
What on earth is she doing here?
Would you like the next part to be playfully romantic, with a drunk Naila being adorably clingy, or quietly intimate, with Luke taking care of her while she unknowingly gets closer to him?