Dan fcked up: Time Skip Unknown - May 22nd, 1998
Part 6
The headache had hit her hard in the early morning—remnants of the previous night’s party, of Leo, and of every dream about him that had left her feeling more hollow than anything else. She’d tried to shake it, tried to laugh it off, but no amount of half-hearted distractions did the trick. Her chest ached with the weight of memories she couldn’t even talk about here, not in this time. Not to her brother… not to her husband who had yet to know her in this world… not to the love of her life.
So she did the one thing that kept her head quiet. She grabbed a bottle. And then another one after that… and another one after that.
Two hours later, she found herself spilling into the cab, vaguely directing the driver through the streets as her mind half-registered where she was going. After all, she had to deliver that money for Leo’s car. But by the time she was stumbling up to the doors of his penthouse at 3:37 a.m., the exact reason why she needed to see Leo was hazy at best. All she knew was the fact that she missed him.
The doorman gave her a skeptical look as she approached, her heels clacking a little too loudly in the quiet of the night. “L…Leonardo Azure please” Addie stated – a look of determination on her features as she looked at the man. He stepped in front of her, eyebrow raised. “Miss, you… don’t have an appointment with Mr. Azure at this hour, do you?”
Great. Okay. Let’s play ball.
Addie’s eyes widened, her tipsy confidence spilling over. “Appointment?” she slurred, blinking at him with what she hoped was an innocent expression. “I don’t think I need one, darling, I’m here to… surprise him. I’m one of his… special friends, you know? He’ll be very happy to see me.”
The doorman looked at her dubiously, his hand hesitating over the phone - likely to call Leo for confirmation. Addie saw her chance and swayed closer, leaning in with a smile.
“Why bother him, hm? Just let me up, love. Leo’s expecting me.” She opened her purse, managing to pull out a few bills—her sense of the amount as fuzzy as her head—and handed it to him with a little wink.
After a beat, he took the money with a sigh, gesturing her through. “Just… don’t cause any trouble, miss. And make sure you leave the key if he gave you one,” he muttered, looking away as she swept past him with a half-laugh.
The elevator felt unsteady, her balance tipping as she held onto the side, watching the lights move one by one. When she finally arrived at his door, she steadied herself, checkbook barely peeking out of her purse, her head still spinning with questions she didn’t have answers for as she reached his door. Why wasn’t she inside already? Why did she have to knock?
She knocked once, then again, her voice slurring as she called, “Ooopeeeen the bloody door, damn it!” Leaning her forehead against the cool surface, she waited, trying to listen for any sign of life inside.
Nothing.
Groaning, she started knocking again, louder this time. “Pleasseeeeeee darlinggggg, open uppppp!”
No answer. Her mind, still dulled by the alcohol, tried to conjure an idea. Right—she knew he kept a spare key above the door. Problem was, Leo’s door was tall, and Addie, at 5’2’’, was definitely not.
So there she was—a drunken mess, knocking and jumping, struggling to reach the key, her voice likely echoing down the hall. She knew she must have looked pitiful, but she didn’t care. The only thing she cared about was getting inside. And the only thing on her mind, besides the pounding music of her own heartbeat, was the one person she shouldn’t be running to in the first place.
The door clicked open, and there he was, groggy and surprised, but none of that mattered because the second she saw him, everything else fell away. Addie barely gave him time to react before she was on him—her lips on his, arms wrapping around his neck, legs pulling him close. It was so damn familiar, like slipping back into the one place she’d been aching for. She pressed herself closer, her kisses hungry, her body instinctively remembering every line of him. And he—he was steady beneath her, his hands gripping her shoulders as he tried to balance them both, a flicker of recognition in his touch.
If only they could just stay like this, she thought, everything would be alright. She could feel the warmth, the feeling of him, the comfort of his familiar scent. Her mind, clouded and unfocused, seemed to reach through time and memories, pulling her back to everything they’d shared.
“Addie…” he murmured, his voice low and hesitant as he shifted back. “Addie, wait…”
She let out a frustrated sigh, the familiar feeling of his voice piercing through the haze. Greatttt. Of course, he has a conscience. But even that wasn’t enough to stop her now. She wanted him, needed him to drown out everything. With a tiny pout, her expression a mix of disappointment and defiance, she slipped past him into the kitchen, leaving his stunned form by the door.
She knew her way around, after all. Every inch of his place was seared into her mind. Without a second thought, she reached for his special stash—a hidden cabinet she knew contained the “good stuff.” Her fingers found the bottle of Cognac, and she twisted off the cap, tilting it back for a long, burning gulp. The warmth hit her, spreading through her as she set the bottle on the counter and looked back at him, her vision a little hazy, her thoughts even hazier.
“You know,” she slurred, the words half-whispered, [color= “he would have kissed me back.” She met his gaze with a mixture of hurt and stubbornness, her eyes trailing down as she nodded in the direction of his boxers. A pang hit her heart, the realization that this Leo didn’t look at her the same way… didn’t know her like he used to. Like he should. But her mind didn’t let that thought linger too long, only enough to feel the ache sharpen before she pushed it back down.
“Me… youuuu… that,” she gestured with a faint smile, her hand trailing down to point at his waist, her voice dropping to a murmur. “Now… I want to fck you. Please. Thank you.”
With a renewed determination, she crossed the space between them, her hands reaching up to tug him down to her. There was an urgency in her touch, a need that even she couldn’t fully explain. Before he could react, she pushed him down onto the couch, climbing onto him, her legs straddling him as she let her lips wander over his neck, each kiss deepening, her touch warm and insistent. She wanted him…. More than she could ever bloody explain…. And he… well… KEPT PUSHING HER AWAY.
She felt him move her lips off him staring at her with something that was truly unreadable to Addie with her current state of mind. “You barely know me, Addie,” he murmured, hands gently holding her back. “You’re drunk, and last time I saw you, you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”
At that, she stilled, her breath hitching as she looked into his eyes. The sadness behind her gaze nearly broke him. She let out a quiet sigh, her eyes widening, her hand coming up to touch his cheek in a gesture that felt too tender for the chaos of the moment.
“I know you, Leo,” she whispered, her voice soft and heavy with emotion. “I know everything I need to know.”
Without waiting, she leaned forward again, brushing her lips against his, soft and slow, her fingers weaving into his hair, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding her steady. She felt his lips soften, his tension easing as he kissed her back, his hands sliding down her back, sending a warm ache through her. It was so easy to forget everything like this, every rational reason she had to stay away from him. And for a moment, she could almost believe it was like before. Just them, the two of them, wrapped up in each other.
Each kiss sent another spark through her, each touch like a little promise, and time… well, time slipped away like she had when she knocked on his door. There was no “later,” no “next time”—just Leo. He felt familiar, safe, and she was a little too far gone to care that this was entirely unfair to him. Her hands drifted down, seeking him out, needing to close the distance in every way she could as her fingers slipped past the waistband of his boxers.
But he was holding her hands in place, his voice catching in his throat. “Addie, we can’t. I’m not doing this right now.”
It was like a cold slap to the face. A harsh reminder that he wasn’t her Leo—the one who couldn’t go a day without holding her. Her eyes flashed with irritation, and she grabbed the bottle she’d left on the table, taking another long swig, feeling the burn. She lowered it, her gaze cutting back to him, lips curling into a humorless smile.
“Oh, so you can sleep with someone else,” she sneered, “but you can’t sleep with me?”
He rubbed a hand over his face, looking like he was both amused and exhausted with her. “Not when you only want to because you’re drunk.”
Addie rolled her eyes, reaching out, letting her hand drift across his chest as she murmured, “Leoooo, darling, I want to. The alcohol—it’s… it’s… what’s the word… it’s just a crutch so I can do what I actually want to do. And what I want…” Her hand slid lower, brushing just above the waistband of his boxers. “…is you. Maybe I won’t admit it when I’m sober, but I really, really do.”
He seemed to soften, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. She was nearly sure she had him, nearly sure he was close to giving in. “If, by morning, you still want to, that’s a different story,” he whispered. “But not right now.”
A sigh slipped from her lips, the sadness in her gaze growing deeper. “No, no… because when I’m not drunk, then… then I think. And I think too much. And I think about how I’m going to hurt you, and I don’t want to hurt you, Leo. I never wanted to hurt you the first time, and I don’t want to do it this time.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But right now… right now, I just miss you.”
She could see him hesitate, watching her with that softness she’d missed so much. She wanted him to understand, but of course he couldn’t. He couldn’t know what she knew.
“Addie, you wouldn’t hurt me,” he murmured. “I’m not that easy to hurt. And I’m not whoever hurt you before.”
She let out a shaky laugh, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “You don’t… you don’t get it, Leo,” she muttered, grabbing the bottle for another drink, but his hand closed around hers, taking it from her before she could take another sip.
Fine. She didn’t care anymore. She slipped past him, heading down the hall, leaving him standing there, his eyes burning into her back as she tugged off her shirt without looking back. It felt… freeing, she supposed, to throw away the rules she’d set up in her head. To ignore the knowledge that this wasn’t her Leo, to just pretend, for once, that maybe he was.
In his bedroom, she stripped down to nothing, pulling open his closet and rifling through it until she found one of his shirts. Soft, familiar… close enough, she thought. She pulled it on, the fabric brushing against her skin, filling her with the faintest hint of peace.
When she turned around, she saw him standing in the doorway, his eyes glued firmly to the doorframe, looking anywhere but at her. Perfect. He couldn’t even look at her…
“Can’t even look at me?” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she crossed the room, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the bed with an insistent pout. “Fine. Don’t look, then. Just lie down.”
He hesitated, tugging his hand back. “I’ll take the couch, Addie. You can have the bed.”
She met his eyes, feeling the irritation flare up in her chest. She squared her shoulders, giving him a hard look, her voice low and threatening. “Then I’ll find someone else. Someone who’s not afraid to sleep next to me. Or better yet, with me.” Her gaze was dark, her tone unwavering, daring him to refuse her.
For a moment, he looked at her with something like defeat, his resistance draining as he sighed and pulled on a pair of joggers, finally giving in and lying beside her, keeping as much distance as possible.
She rolled her eyes at his attempt to keep a buffer, her expression softening as she moved closer, her hand drifting to his waist as she pressed her face against his chest. She liked this… just… this. Her in his arms. And maybe… no… it was 100% the alcohol but the words just slipped out “Just… don’t date anyone else, Leo,” she murmured, feeling even more stupid and small and a little too fragile to say anything else.
To her surprise, he chuckled softly, the sound rumbling against her cheek. “I don’t have a girlfriend, Addie.”
A faint smile tugged at her lips, her heart softening in a way that made her chest ache. “Then we’re good,” she whispered, her words thick and sleepy, tinged with exhaustion and something else she didn’t want to name. “So, come on, Leo… we can at least make out, can’t we? It’s not like I was that drunk yesterday.”
Not waiting for an answer, she let her lips brush over his chest, then up to his neck, tasting the familiar warmth of his skin, her hands wandering down his chest and lower, her fingers skimming the edge of his waistband. This time, he didn’t stop her, and a rush of satisfaction filled her, her lips pressing firmer against his neck as she let her hands trail further, her touch slow and deliberate.
Morning
The first thing Addie registered as she woke up was the pounding headache splitting through her skull. She groaned, the weight of her own thoughts feeling like jagged glass scraping against her brain. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, trying to delay the inevitable realization of where she was, what she’d done, and why she felt like she’d been hit by a truck.
The second thing she registered was that she wasn’t alone.
Peeking one eye open, she scanned the bed, her breath catching as she saw Leo sleeping beside her, his face half-buried in his pillow, his breaths slow and steady. And then—oh, fck—she realized she was completely, entirely naked. She could vaguely recall putting on his shirt last night, but at some point, that shirt had vanished. What exactly had happened? Her mind strained to replay the hazy details, but they were slipping away like water through her fingers.
A quick glance at him told her he was still fully dressed from the waist down—joggers intact. So they hadn’t done anything, then? Right? Thank god. But still, she was very much lying next to him, completely bare, with last night’s memories dancing just out of reach.
She swallowed, holding her breath, the fog in her mind slowly clearing enough for one coherent thought to surface: she needed to get out of here.
Moving as slowly as possible, she eased out from under the sheets, her head pounding at every shift. As she climbed off the bed, she scanned the floor, spotting his shirt - the one she was wearing before - crumpled by the foot of the bed. She grabbed it, pulling it on and buttoning it hastily as she continued her escape plan.
Then, as her eyes darted around the room, she spotted a pair of his shorts folded on a nearby chair. Better than nothing. She slipped them on, tightening the drawstring as much as she could.
Now dressed—if you could call it that—she tiptoed out to the living room, hoping she wouldn’t accidentally knock something over. Every step was a small victory in her blurry escape, her ears pricked for any sound that might indicate he was waking up. Thankfully, it was silent.
Her purse was by the couch, thankfully where she’d left it. She opened it, fumbling around until her fingers closed around her checkbook. In her drunken state, she must’ve thought paying him for the car would be a great idea… at… 3 in the fcking morning, she remembered vaguely, a small smirk pulling at her lips. Hell, she could still leave him the payment—what better way to keep her distance, right?
She flipped it open, pen ready as she filled out the first check.
“Car expenses - $5,000.”
Then her eyes moved to the Cognac bottle by the couch, and she sighed, mentally calculating the cost. Might as well add it to the tab.
“Cognac - $15,000.”
Her pen hesitated on the last check, the memory of last night flickering through her mind. She remembered her drunken words, her desperation, the way she’d thrown herself at him. A faint blush crept up her neck as she scrawled the last line.
“Dealing with my shit + Fooling around - $10,000.”
She almost laughed. There was no way he’d take it well, but maybe this would make him rethink letting her back into his life—or at least keep him from questioning whatever tangled mess of feelings she had. She set the checks neatly on his coffee table, grabbing a slip of paper from her purse and scrawling a quick “Thanks for the night, Addie”, then tucked it under the checks.
With a final glance around, she slipped toward the door, tugging his shirt tighter around her as she let herself out. She was gone before he’d even have the chance to see her—hopefully before he’d even remember last night.