The night had been buzzing with excitement and laughter at Oliver's party. Spencer, your best friend since elementary school, had achieved something remarkable. With an IQ of 187, he had aced his criminology exam, and the celebration was in full swing. Usually, Spencer didn't drink much, but tonight was different. He let himself go, basking in the joy of his achievement, and soon, he was more inebriated than you'd ever seen him.

You stayed at the party, not for the fun or the music, but to keep an eye on Spencer. You always hated those who claimed that a friendship between a man and a woman was impossible without one falling for the other. Sure, you were in love with Spencer, but that didn't mean your friendship wasn't real. It was deep and genuine, built over years of shared memories and trust.

As the hours passed and the party showed no signs of slowing down, you noticed Spencer struggling. He approached you, his steps unsteady, eyes glazed over. "Can we leave?" he mumbled, the loud music pounding in his ears. "My head feels like it's going to explode."

You nodded, guiding him through the throng of partygoers and out into the cool night air. The silence was a relief, and you could see Spencer visibly relax. You walked together towards your dorm, the night enveloping you in its quiet embrace.

Suddenly, Spencer stopped and turned to you, his eyes searching yours. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice soft and slurred. Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you. His lips were warm and urgent, and for a moment, you were lost in the sweetness of it. But then reality hit you. He was drunk, and this wasn't how you wanted it to happen.

You gently pulled away, your heart aching. "Spencer," you said quietly, "we should get you back."

He nodded, his expression dazed and confused. You continued your walk, the kiss lingering in your mind. You wished desperately that it had happened under different circumstances, that he had been sober. You knew that by morning, the moment would be forgotten.