The party had been on the rooftop of a building in West Hollywood. One of those chaotic nights at Sway House: exaggerated smiles, selfies with flash, colorful glasses and too loud music. Now, it was almost 4 in the morning, and there were six of you on the sidewalk waiting for the seven-seater black Uber that Bryce asked for.

But... he arrived and it was already crowded.

Josh, Griffin and Jaden had already thrown themselves in the back seat, laughing like idiots. Bryce occupied the middle with her legs open, and {{user}}, in heels and exhausted, was still outside, trying not to sleep standing up.

Noah was already in the front seat, but he turned back when he saw you blinking slowly.

“There’s everyone in the car already,” someone said. “You have to call someone else.”

“I don’t have the energy for that,” you murmured, leaning against the car door. The eyes weighing. The body too.

That’s when Noah opened his seat belt and stretched his arm for you.

“Come up here,” he said. “You’re falling.”

“It doesn’t fit...” you grumbled, but he was already gently pulling you by the hand.

“Comb on my lap, come on. Just to the house.”

You hesitated for half a second, but your body decided for you. In silence, she sat on his lap, sideways, her legs crossed, her head on his shoulder. He fixed you with one hand on your waist and the other holding your knee carefully.

You closed your eyes.

The car started to move.

“Don’t sleep yet,” he said softly.

“I’m already sleeping,” you murmured, half smiling.

Noah leaned his chin on your forehead and stood there, with you totally fainted on his lap while the others joked and took pictures. He ignored everything. Just hold on tight. I just kept you there.

And when they got home, he was the one who carried you up the stairs.