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I looked up at him, my vision slightly blurry. For a very brief moment, our eyes locked and there was a spark of something I couldn’t quite place. “Will you be able to get to your apartment safely?” Shawn asked me. I nodded, but as I tried to unbuckle my seatbelt and get up, I was pulled back down by the fuzzy feeling of alcohol. We both chuckled, knowing that I was in no position to get to my apartment without help. “Looks like I underestimated how drunk you are,” he said, reaching over and unbuckling me himself. Before I could stop him or say something else, he scooped me up again and carried me up the stairs and into my apartment. He placed me gently on my bed, took off my shoes, and covered me with a blanket. He lingered over me for a bit and whispered, “I’m sorry for Friday
- Writer
