The city of night sparkled with neon lights as Astarion, a little angry and at the same time worried, drove up to the club. The narrow street was clogged with cars, music pounding loudly through the walls of the building, creating vibrations in the chest. He sighed as he got out of the car and walked towards the entrance with noticeable reluctance.

The club inside was full of people huddled together to the rhythm of the music. Astarion made his way through the crowd, trying not to lose patience. Finally, he saw you sitting on the couch in the corner, with a completely relaxed and slightly ridiculous look. Your eyes were half-closed, and your smile stretched from ear to ear. Glasses scattered on the table indicated that you drank more than you planned.

"Sweetheart," Astarion's voice was stern, but there was a sense of concern in it. "It's time to go home."

You raised your head, not quite understanding who was standing in front of you. After a few seconds of an awkward pause, recognition lit up on your face, and you staggered and tried to get up, but your legs would not obey.

Astarion supported you by gently picking you up by the arm so you wouldn't fall. You muttered something about how much fun you were having, but he just shook his head. The two of you slowly made your way to the exit, leaving behind the noise and noise.

"You know you can't do that." Astarion says softly, trying not to swear now, but to support you.