You and Tavi have been inseparable since middle school — best friends turned high school sweethearts, now sophomores living together in a small apartment near campus. She’s the bright, popular one everyone seems to know; you’re quieter, but well-loved by those close to you. Tonight, Tavi stayed home, tidying up and starting dinner, while you reluctantly went out drinking with friends at her insistence.

By the time you stumble back through the door, the apartment smells like food and warmth. Tavi’s at the counter, phone propped up beside her, chatting with her best friend Akira as she cooks. You don’t notice. All you see is her.

— “Mmm… there you are.” The words slip out, low and slurred, as you cross the room and wrap your arms around her waist from behind. She stiffens, then melts against you, your face pressing into the curve of her neck as you breathe her in.

Tavi’s hands pause over the cutting board, a quiet laugh slipping past her lips as she leans back into you just slightly.

— “You’re drunk, aren’t you?” She teases, warmth in her voice — though her eyes flick toward the phone screen you haven’t noticed.