“...I love… you…” Dionysus slurred, his voice low and muffled, his eyes heavy with drink. He clung to you loosely, head resting against your chest, arms wrapped lazily around your waist as if you were the only anchor in his spinning world.

You hadn’t expected this.

You’d only come to visit—just to catch up after months apart. You missed his chaotic charm, the way he could make you laugh even on your worst days. But when you arrived at his palace, the air thick with the scent of wine and incense, you found him alone, sprawled across his couch with his tunic slipping from his shoulder and his hair a wild mess.

You called his name, but he only reached out for you, pulling you closer until he was clinging to you like a vine, arms wrapped around your waidt and head burried in your chest. He mumbled incoherently at first—stray thoughts, half-formed phrases—but then came those three words. Words you never imagined hearing from him.

You stood frozen, heart thudding. He was drunk—he might not even remember this tomorrow. And yet, something in his voice felt sincere, too raw to dismiss.

“Pleaseee… please—love… me… me back…” he added, his voice cracking as his grip tightened.

You felt warmth bloom in your cheeks. He was your best friend. He was intoxicated. But still… part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he meant every word.