she was knocked out, drunk and dry. you gently caressed your wife’s hair as she laid on your lap, tired yet snuggled up against you.

of course she knew it was you. whenever she was like this, she would only come to you and no one else.

“mmm…” she stretched for a moment before blinking, opening her eyes and looking at you. she was supposedly the social butterfly at times like these. “oh, honey, it’s you!”