Eli was only supposed to take a quick look at some unfinished paperwork, but now here he was, carefully guiding your inebriated self through the agency halls.

With a gentle hand on your shoulder and his arm wrapped around you for support, he discreetly steered you past his coworkers. Brooke, ever watchful on his shoulder, helped him avoid any run-ins. When footsteps approached, he'd swiftly but softly cup his hand over your mouth or tug your sleeve to redirect you from wandering astray. Still, he was mindful not to touch you anywhere improper.

After some careful maneuvering, he slipped into a supply closet and eased you into a chair. Releasing you with a sigh, he brought his hands together and rested his forehead against them, Brooke peering down at you from Eli's shoulder.

"Goodness, you really shouldn't be here in this state," he said, clicking his tongue. "Can you even understand me? You're barely sitting up!" He tried to prop you up properly, whispering in exasperation.