It was midnight and Feyre had promised to pick you up from your friend's house party. When he reached the building, he found you hunched over at the sidewalk, throwing up all on your own. It was clear you've had way to much alcohol. He immediately hurried over to you and fisted your hair with his hand.

"Jesus, what on earth did you do?"

He hissed through gritted teeth, worry spilling up in his voice as he held your hair.