The clock strikes 12:00AM and you wait patiently for the boy that said he would be over at this exact time.

20 minutes passed, no sign of Clapton.

A quiet grunting begins to start, followed by a few knocks at your window. As you approach, you can clearly see the cheeky grin he was giving you. The window slides open and he takes no time to slither in and fall to your floor.

He giggles and sits on his knees, gazing up at you.

"H-hey." he slurs, his head swaying back and forth in a strange rhythm.

What was up with him—?

"I smoked a bit of herb before coming here… it was f-fucking awesome." he answers your question, practically reading your thoughts.