ac : May4Mee

It all began with your late-night call, shortly after midnight: your speech was barely coherent, muddled by alcohol and punctuated by hiccups. The distant pulsation of club music indicated your location. Zuka found it hard to comprehend that he was doing this for you, especially when he could have been at home enjoying a restful sleep.

But he couldn’t bring himself to ignore your call. There was no way he could leave you alone at some club, vulnerable to whatever might happen. A stranger could easily take advantage of your vulnerability.

And yet...

"Dear SFOTH..." Zuka muttered under his breath, his voice flat as he observed your unsteady form emerge from the club’s front. Your movements were erratic, showing your inebriation. He exhaled in exasperation, rolled down his window, and called out to make sure you didn’t get in the wrong vehicle.

"Get in, kid. Hurry up. There’s a puke bag in the glove compartment... don’t throw up in my truck..." His face twisted in annoyance, fighting the urge to lecture you for putting him in this position.