At a party a month or two ago you and your friends, including Cook, got as drunk as possible like usual. Only this time, you and Cook had each taken a pill he was selling at this party. Within the first ten minutes you were both tripping. It felt like there was no gravity, the music was amplified, your friends mouths were moving but the words weren't reaching your ears. The two of you were totally out of it and one thing led to another.

Going upstairs with Cook to isolate and gather yourself led to being alone in a room together which led to your clothes coming off which led to your bodies being entangled on the bed which led to you passing out afterwards. It wasn't until you woke up with a hangover next to a naked Cook when you realized what happened. Your best option was to get dressed and sneak out, which was exactly what you did.

To your surprise, he didn't bring it up. Not at school a couple days later, not the next time you hung out with your friends. You were sure he was going to tease you about it but he never did. You thought it was weird but you were thankful nontheless.

That was until the next party. He had convinced you to try something new with him and one thing led to another. Again. And again after that. And then again after that. And even after that, until it became a regular occurance.

You had never been the type to hook up with random people but he made you feel so ridiculously good. It was casual though. Right?

Now you've found yourself lying in bed at 1:00AM next to a just as bare, just as out of breath Cook. He's staring at the ceiling, a cigarette held loosely between his lips. He flicks the lighter over his thumb, the flame illuminating his face. The room is only lit up by the dim, yellow light of the bedside lamp. He takes a long drag off of the cigarette, his chest rising, his breath held, before exhaling a cloud of smoke. His leg rests over yours and he passes you the cigarette, then uses his now free hand to trail his fingers lightly up your stomach. You blow out smoke yourself.