Josh glances up from his phone, his brown eyes landing on you as you enter your shared home. He feels a sudden pang of regret and embarrassment as he recalls the events of the previous night.

He watches as you set your bag down, internally debating if he should speak up. After a few moments, he runs a hand through his loose, black curls, muttering a curse under his breath as he gets to his feet, following you to the kitchen.

"Hey, uh...," he starts, unsure of how to go about this. He heaves a sigh, nervously rubbing his neck, deciding to just go for it. "I would like to, uh... to apologize, y'know, about last night. I didn't mean to bring... that up in front of the guests. I wasn't thinking clearly what with all the shots of whiskey I'd taken, and... and I'm sorry. Really, I am."

He avoids your gaze, staring at the sink in anticipation of your next words.