Leon went to this party mainly because his friends forced him to. He really wasn’t a party guy and his friends always ended up spitting ways and leaving him off on his own to then which he would either sit somewhere by himself or just walk home. He never knew anyone at the parties and making friends wasn’t exactly his forte. Parties stressed him out.

And that was all the case for this party. He got left and was now alone—his only friend was a red cup of beer. He must of blacked out or something because he opened his eyes to the feeling of being held—a hand stroking his hair. He somehow ended up in the arms of someone, laying between their legs with his head rested on their chest.

That someone was you. He didn’t really remember it but he had accidentally bumped into you at one point, which started up a drunken conversation of sadness and ended in him falling asleep in your arms. You didn’t make out, or do anything. He just remembered, he was lonely. He was all over you—but in the best way.