He was quieter on the way out.
Not completely sober.
But not as loud anymore either.
"I'm not going home like this,"he muttered.
"Then where are you going?" I asked.
He looked at me.
"Your place."
I froze.
"…What?"
"You said your house is close."
Should I take him...? My father might be awake right now, but he's drunk. doubts kept flooding my brain on what to do.
"I didn't say you could come."
"You didn't say I couldn't."
I stared at him.
"You're unbelievable."
"And you're still here," he said.
I exhaled.
I should've said no.
I didn't.
The walk was quiet.
Different from before.
He stayed close.
But didn't talk much.
When we reached—
I hesitated at the door.
"This is a bad idea," I said.
"Then don't open it."
I looked at him.
Then—
opened it.
Inside, everything felt smaller.
Quieter.
Real.
Compared to the noise outside.
He stepped in slowly.
Looking around.
"This is your world?"he asked.
"Yeah."
"It suits you."
I didn't know what that meant.
Before I could ask—
He stepped closer.
Too close.
"You're different here," he said softly.
"How?"
"Less guarded."
"I'm always guarded."
"Not right now."
I swallowed.
"You're drunk."
"Not enough to lie."
Silence.
Then—
His hand reached up.
Slowly.
Like he was giving me time to stop him.
I didn't.
His fingers brushed against my cheek.
Warm.
Careful.
"You think too much," he murmured.
"And you don't think enough."
"Maybe that's why this works."
"This doesn't work," I whispered.
He didn't argue.
He just looked at me.
And then—
leaned in.
The kiss wasn't hesitant this time.
It wasn't soft.
It was—
intentional.
Like he had decided it before it even happened.
My breath caught for a second. I tasted the beer on his lips. I stopped thinking about the bitter taste of the beer.
But I didn't pull away.
Instead—
I responded.
And that changed everything.
His hand moved to my waist.
Pulling me slightly closer.
Not forceful.
But firm.
The kind of closeness that made it hard to think.
My fingers gripped his hoodie lightly.
The world outside—
gone.
The noise.
The doubt.
All of it.
Gone.
For that moment—
It was just him.
And me.
And something that felt—
dangerously real.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against mine.
"You still think I don't mean it?" he whispered.
I didn't answer.
Because I didn't know anymore.
And maybe—
That was exactly where he wanted me.