By the time they left the afterparty, Julian had to tow Rafi along like a large, cheerful helium balloon, prone to bobbing off in random directions.
“We should stay,” Rafi tried to tell him. “Party’s not over, ‘ey’re still serving drinks…”
“You’ve had enough drinks.”
“No I haven’t…which means I prob’ly have,” Rafi said with a heavy sigh. “But we could still dance!”
“I’m tired.”
“I’m not tired,” Rafi said sulkily, and immediately fell asleep on Julian’s shoulder in the car.
Two attempts to wake him resulted only in Rafi mumbling and burrowing deeper into Julian; he gave up. Of course Rafi would be a cuddly drunk. A mellow, sleepy, cuddly…possibly adorable drunk.
Julian watched the light of passing streetlamps flare and shimmer in the opals circling his wrist. He’d always particularly
