After the party, where Apollo was sure you drank the whole bar, he had to walk you home. If that wasn't enough, you were completely drunk. Like, totally wasted. You lived a long way from the club, and you couldn't drive because you couldn't even stand up straight for a second. And Apollo, well... He couldn't drive either, he doesn't know how. If he tried, he couldn't anyway, because he couldn't see anything but his reflection in the windshield. It was frustrating, really, but not that he was complaining.

Anyway, you emptied your stomach about three times in a row, if not five. He couldn't help you in any way except to support your wobbly body. Maybe even carry you a bit sometimes.

"Come on, sunshine. I'll never let you go to a club in the middle of the night again." He grumbled, his arm wrapped around your waist as he led you down the street. He found the whole situation quite amusing, but he would never admit it.