DRUNK CONFESSIONS
886 Words
---
Later - Hotel Restaurant
The restaurant was quieter now, late enough that the city outside had softened into reflection and glow. Arabella sat across from Soren, heels kicked off beneath the table, her knee brushing his without intention-until it stayed there.
Their fingers were already tangled.
Neither of them had noticed when it started.
She exhaled, shoulders finally dropping. "Today was... a lot."
He hummed. "You handled it."
She smiled at that, thumb brushing over his knuckle. "I wanted to say thank you. For everything. For stepping in, for noticing, for... fixing things."
His jaw tightened just a little.
"But," she added gently, meeting his eyes, "I don't want to rely on you to save me."
There it was.
Not defensive. Not ashamed. Just honest.
"I don't think it makes me weak," she continued, voice calm. "And I don't mind when you do it. I just... don't always want to need it."
Soren leaned back slightly, studying her the way he always did-carefully, fully.
"That's going to be very hard," he said.
She laughed softly. "Why?"
"Because I don't know how not to act when it's you," he replied, unapologetic. "I've always been that way."
She squeezed his hand, something warm blooming in her chest.
For a moment, everything felt balanced.
---
Later That Night
Soren wasn't supposed to be here.
He was supposed to be discussing load-bearing structures and design revisions with a fellow architect two blocks over. Instead, he froze just inside the bar when he heard laughter-bright, familiar, unmistakably hers.
Arabella sat at the counter.
Alone.
One heel hooked around the stool leg, hair loose, eyes bright in a way that made his chest tighten. She was mid-story, gesturing dramatically while the bartender laughed.
"Another one," she said cheerfully. "Caleb, you're my favorite person tonight."
Soren approached slowly. "Arabella."
She turned, blinked, then grinned. "Heyyy, cute guy. What's your name?"
He huffed, amused and concerned all at once. "Soren."
Her brows knitted. "That's weird. You have the same name as my future... friend-boy-boyfriend." She squinted at him. "So stop flirting with me."
He crossed his arms. "Exactly how much have you had?"
She considered this deeply, then raised one finger. Then another. Then waved her hand like she was in class. "Caleb!"
The bartender looked over. "Yeah, Bella?"
"Another drink, buddy."
Caleb hesitated.
Soren caught his eye and mouthed, Don't.
Caleb scratched the back of his head. "Uh... maybe some water first?"
Arabella gasped. "Betrayal."
Soren gently took the empty glass from her hand. "I'm taking you home."
She narrowed her eyes. "Just because you're cute doesn't mean you get to take me anywhere without asking."
He smiled softly. "Bella."
She slumped slightly, the energy flickering. Just for a second.
That's when he knew.
This wasn't just about a long day.
He paid the tab, thanked Caleb, and guided her up slowly, staying close-not restraining, not hovering. Just there.
And later-when she was curled on her couch, shoes kicked off, head resting against his thigh-he stayed awake all night.
Not to save her.
Just to make sure she wasn't alone.
.
---
Arabella's Apartment
Getting her inside was a negotiation.
Not because she couldn't walk-she absolutely could-but because she was suddenly deeply invested in every step being a discussion.
"Soren," she said solemnly, shoes already discarded somewhere near the door, "you walk like you're always bracing for impact."
He closed the door behind them. "You're stalling."
"I'm observing," she corrected, wagging a finger. "It's different."
He guided her toward the couch. "Sit."
She complied... briefly. Then stood again. "I don't sit well when people tell me to."
He handed her a glass of water. "Drink."
She stared at it. "Is this a trick?"
"No."
She sniffed it. "You'd make a terrible villain. Too honest."
She took one sip, grimaced. "Why does water taste judgmental?"
Soren bit back a smile. "Because you know you need it."
She leaned closer, squinting at him. "You have very serious eyebrows. Has anyone told you that?"
"Yes."
"By me?" she asked.
"Also yes."
She took another sip, then promptly handed the glass back. "Okay, I'm hydrated emotionally."
"Bella."
She pointed at him. "You used my name. That means you care."
"I care," he said easily. "Drink the rest."
She sighed dramatically and downed it, then immediately wrapped her arms around his waist. "You're warm."
He froze.
"Is this allowed?" she murmured into his chest. "Because I feel like this is allowed."
He exhaled slowly. "You're drunk."
"I'm not drunk, I'm just not sober" she countered. "There's a difference."
She tilted her head up, eyes soft, unfocused but sincere. "You're very handsome when you're worried...and when you breathe."
"That's unfortunate..and nice?."
"No," she said, tapping his chest. "It's endearing."
He helped her toward the bedroom, carefully, like she was made of glass. She flopped onto the bed and immediately reached for his hand.
"Stay."
"I am."
She smiled sleepily. "Good. Because you make things quieter."
That one hit.
He brushed her hair back, voice gentler now. "Try to sleep."
She nodded, eyes already closing. "If I flirt with you in the morning too then it counts, right?"
"It counts."
"Good," she murmured. "Because I really like you."
And then-finally-she drifted off.
Soren sat there long after, watching her breathe, smiling softly despite himself.
Not saving her.
Just staying.
- Writer
