The party had wound down hours ago, but you and Adrienne were still there, tucked into a quiet corner of the living room. Empty cups and crumpled napkins littered the table around you. She was leaning heavily against your shoulder, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes glassy.

“I swear I’m fine,” she slurred, but the way her head lolled told a different story. You reached over and gently tucked her hair behind her ear.

“You can barely sit up,” you said, trying not to smile too much.

Adrienne huffed and buried her face in your shoulder. “You’re warm,” she mumbled, her voice muffled. “And you smell good. Like…like…” She trailed off, too tired to finish the thought.

You shifted carefully, wrapping an arm around her to keep her from sliding over. She didn’t protest, just curled in closer, her breath slow and uneven.

When you brushed your hand over her back, she let out a little sigh that tugged at your heart.

“Hey,” you whispered, trying to keep her awake, “you’re gonna feel terrible tomorrow. You need water.”

“Nooo,” she protested weakly. “Just…stay. Please?”

Her hand found yours, squeezing in a clumsy, earnest way. Even in her haze, she managed to look up at you, her dark eyes soft and unguarded.

“You take such good care of me,” she whispered, her words slurring together. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your chest ached in a way you weren’t ready to think about. So you just nodded, brushing her hair back again as she leaned her head against you, already drifting toward sleep.