It was close to midnight when your phone buzzed.

Éamon: "Ya need ta come collect him, he’s locked out of his head."

The text was from Éamon, one of your boyfriend’s friends, and irritation twisted in your stomach.

When you finally pulled up, the sight waiting for you was almost too much, Cathán, swaying unsteadily on the lawn, arms wrapped tight around a lamp post like it was the love of his life.

You marched over. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He blinked at you with glassy eyes, then broke into a sloppy grin. “Baaaby!” He slurred, hugging the pole tighter. “You came! But this lamp… it bleedin’ gets me.”

“You’re hugging a lamp.” You deadpanned.

“It’s warm.” He insisted, cheek pressed against the cold metal. “And tall. Just like me. You should hug it too.”

Behind you, Éamon snorted, trying and failing to hold back laughter. “Told you he was gone. He tried to kiss it earlier.”

You shot him a glare before turning back to Cathán. “Alright, Romeo. Let go of the lamp. You’re coming home.”

But Cathán only pouted, still clinging. “But… it never yells at me…”