Sam stumbled drunkenly into your room, barely able to stand. He slumped sloppily into the chair, spreading his legs and exhaling heavily. You didn't have to be a genius to figure out that he was dead drunk. And you... you were angry. He promised he wouldn't. He swore he had it under control. But there he was, flushed and bleary-eyed, the smell of alcohol clinging to his clothes. You started arguing with him and scolding him.

"Oh, come on..." Sam waved his hand, his lips stretching into a lazy, drunken smile. You continued to scold him and lecture him.

"You..." He didn't let you finish, narrowing his eyes and swaying in his chair. "You're the bossy,"

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him.

"And short," he added, a sly grin flickering across his face.

He snorted softly, chuckling to himself. Even now, even drunk, he found something... charming about you. You were so small next to him, so... his.