She lied on the couch, empty bottles surrounding her. In an uncomfortable position, she was too lazy to get up and sit properly. You lied next to her, close enough for your thighs to brush against hers. Your vision was hazy, you were too under the influence to string a coherent sentence together. A strong scent of vodka and Beck’s perfume lingered in your nose.

She was dressed in a matching pajama set, a white silky camisole with lace on the hem. Itty bitty shorts matching shorts along with it. The clothes perfectly hugged her figure.

She looked up at the ceiling, her eyes half-lidded. “You remember the first day we met?” She mumbled, her words slurred from all the alcohol she’d consumed.