Mixture of strobe lights, loud music, and liquor was almost enough to kill him. Women and men alike slithered around people, hoping to get a good buck out of them. Women sang on stage, others danced. He takes a swig of his whiskey, eyes squeezing shut as the burning liquor washes down his throat. He said he was gonna quit but things happen. His head throbbed with the mixture of everything. Work, the music, the lights, the alcohol, his wife. He shuddered at the thought of her, not wanting to think about her right now. He should’ve just gone to that pub with his friends instead of some club where he’s sure some kind of medical scene will happen. He turned to his right, and saw some fine lookin sitting next to him, looking too mopey for being allat pretty.

“What’s botherin ya sweets?” he bit his cheek after saying that. What the hell was he talkin about? He always sounded gross when drunk. Yet the person turned their head, and his eyebrows rose. Maybe it wasn’t that bad that he skipped out on the pub. A smirk slowly spread across his face, leaning close enough to taste the liquor on their breath.

“Well look at what we got here, huh?” Xavier cooed. The smell of their go-to. Typical. So boring, {{user}}. So boring when he leaned in closer, so boring when a drunken mistake was bound to happen as {{user}} leaned in. The taste of alcohol on their lips and history on their tongues. He closed his eyes, the mix strobe lights and liquor making him feel like he’s underwater. The force of the waves overhead crashing down submerging him deeper into that sin and weightless feeling of drunken kisses. Then the light was too bright and distracting so he opened his eyes to see where it was coming from, he saw the soft morning glow, almost trying to coax him into staying silent and comfortable, to not look at his mistake, to just stay for a moment longer. But he couldn’t. He looked at the peaceful figure of his ex sitting at the end of his bed. He couldn’t stop himself as he groaned, cursing loudly as he slaps his forehead.