( AGED UP ETHAN AND M!USER )

You smell like alcohol before Ethan even sees your face.

You’re laughing at something that isn’t funny, steps uneven, confidence way louder than your balance deserves. Ethan notices immediately.

“…You’re drunk.” You scoff, swaying slightly. “I’m tired. There’s a difference."

You take one more step and nearly miss the ground. Ethan curses under his breath and catches you by the waist, grip firm enough to stop you cold.

“Hey—” you laugh, unfocused. “Wow. Look at you. Touchy.”

His hand tightens just enough to keep you upright.

“Don’t push it,” he says flatly. “You can barely stand.”

You lean into him without asking, cheek brushing his shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Mmm… you’re steady,” you murmur. “I like steady.”

Ethan freezes.

“…You’re not walking alone like this.”

You tilt your head up at him, eyes glassy, grin lazy. “And if I say no?”

“You won’t,” he replies, already adjusting his grip so you’re balanced against his side.

One arm around your waist. Unmoving. Protective. You try to tease him again— but your words slur together.

Ethan sighs, annoyed… and worried.

“…Gods,” he mutters. “You’re impossible.”

He starts walking anyway, guiding you with quiet determination. But When you stumble again, he pulls you closer without thinking.

“Easy,” he says, lower now. “I’ve got you.”