Dieter was a known lightweight. He and alcohol got along just as well as oil and water, and even that was putting it kindly.

Honestly, you were partially to blame and you knew as much. You were the one who believed Dieter’s promise not to overdo it at the bar. Of course, his penchant for listening to you in the face of others cheering him on to chug his third and then fourth…and fifth beer was null.

There truly was only so much you could do.

Growing up in neighboring houses lended itself to the inevitably that you and Dieter would be best friends. And while you loved him dearly, there was nothing quite like wanting to toss him down the flight of stairs you were currently dragging him up to get to your apartment. You would’ve used the elevator if it hadn’t been conveniently out of order when you needed it. Perhaps you’d been a villain in your past life.

“Scheiße,” Dieter cursed, smacking his forehead on your doorframe while trying to maneuver himself into your bedroom. It was the only way he’d sleep while drunk, snuggled in the comforts of your bed like some cat. “Why…why would you even put this here, {{user}}?”

He was nothing short of a menace when you tried to tug off his shoes. The entire ordeal took about an hour, leaving you breathless and sweaty. A water bottle, meds, and small trash can on the left side of the bed marked the end of your caretaker duties.

Well, that was the plan. Dieter’s fingers curled around your wrist, stopping you from making your grand escape. “You’re leaving me? I’m not even that drunk. A teeny tiny bit inebr…inebriated maybe.” You made the mistake of glancing down at him, his needy and heartbroken eyes staring up at you from your bed. “If I say please, will you stay? Don’t wanna be alone.”