The party didn't end suddenly.
It faded.
Slowly.
Like a storm losing strength.
The music got quieter. People started leaving in small groups, grabbing their jackets and mumbling tired goodbyes. The air inside the house smelled like spilled drinks, sweat, and the heavy sweetness of alcohol.
Andrea barely noticed most of it.
Her memories of the last hour were blurry.
She remembered laughing at something Tom said.
She remembered Samuel leaning close to say something sarcastic in her ear.
She remembered Matthew watching the room more than he talked.
And then… people started leaving.
By two in the morning, the house was almost quiet again.
Empty cups covered the table. A few balloons floated near the ceiling, slowly losing air.
Andrea's sister sat on the floor near the couch, holding a bottle loosely in her hand.
Her head leaned against the wall.
She was completely drunk.
Tom looked around the living room.
"Well," he said, rubbing his neck, "that escalated."
Andrea was curled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket someone had thrown over her shoulders.
She was half awake, half asleep.
Her head hurt.
Her throat felt dry.
"Happy birthday to me," she mumbled.
Tom chuckled quietly.
Matthew stood near the kitchen, picking up a few empty cups.
Samuel was leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone.
Tom glanced at the clock.
"It's really late."
Matthew nodded.
"Yeah."
Tom looked toward the door.
"I should probably go."
Samuel raised his eyes from his phone.
"At three in the morning?"
Tom hesitated.
"…Good point."
Matthew sighed.
"You can stay if you want. There's space."
Tom nodded slowly.
"Yeah. That's probably smarter."
Samuel shoved his phone back into his pocket.
"I'm not walking home either."
Andrea opened one eye slightly.
"Oh great," she muttered. "A sleepover."
Tom laughed.
"Don't worry. We won't steal your blanket."
Andrea groaned and pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
"Too late."
Matthew walked over and gently moved a few empty cups away from the couch table.
Then he looked down at Andrea.
"You okay?"
Andrea peeked at him from under the blanket.
"Define okay."
Matthew almost smiled.
"Fair."
Samuel walked over and dropped onto the armchair across from the couch.
"Well," he said lazily, "this is cozy."
Tom grabbed a pillow from the floor and sat down against the wall.
The house was finally quiet.
No music.
No shouting.
Just the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the occasional sound of someone shifting in their seat.
Andrea slowly closed her eyes again.
Her sister snored softly on the floor nearby, still holding the bottle in her hand.
Tom looked at her and laughed quietly.
"She really went all out tonight."
Samuel smirked.
"She's dedicated."
Matthew sat down on the other side of the room.
For a while, nobody spoke.
The exhaustion from the night finally caught up with them.
Andrea was the first to fall asleep.
Her breathing slowly evened out under the blanket.
Tom followed soon after, his head resting against the wall.
Samuel leaned back in the armchair, staring at the ceiling.
Across the room, Matthew watched Andrea sleeping on the couch.
His expression was thoughtful.
Complicated.
Samuel noticed.
Of course he did.
Without looking at him, Samuel said quietly,
"You're staring."
Matthew glanced at him.
Samuel smirked slightly.
"You care more than you admit."
Matthew didn't answer.
Samuel closed his eyes.
The room went silent again.
But the tension from the night hadn't disappeared.
It was just waiting for morning.