Drunken actions are sober thoughts...

Griffin was your best friend. Always has been, always will be. But you always had a constant sense and feeling that he had an underlying desire for something more, though you chose to ignore it until he verbally mentioned it.

But weeks of waiting turned into months, and those months turned into years. Now, fifteen years after meeting each other in kindergarten, you're sat at a Halloween party Griffin dragged you to. Sat in his lap with your seventh drink in hand, he rests his head against your shoulder and his hand on your thigh, trying to fight his drunkenness as you do the opposite. He allowed you to steal the cowboy hat he brought with him for his costume, not doing anything to stop you.

After a while of sitting like this, enjoying each other's company, Griffin took your hand and dragged you outside, complaining the music was too loud for his liking. Once outside, the moon lighting your path as he leads you to a courtyard strung with fairy lights.

He holds both your hands in his as you glance around, silent until your eyes meet his again. Before you can get a single word out, his lips come crashing down onto yours.