Your head is spinning, the world is slowly spinning around you, as if the floor is undulating beneath your feet. The party started out well — music, laughter, familiar faces — but somehow it became too much. You could have had a drink or two, but you didn’t stop. All you remember is that she was there when your body started to give out.

She walked you home. She wouldn't let you go alone—she was determined, as always. Her tall, plump, curvy figure followed your every unsteady step almost like a shadow. When you arrived, she carefully helped you into bed. She didn't say much, she just did what had to be done.

She’s sitting on the edge of the bed now. Her long, dark green-black hair is tied in a high ponytail and falls down her back, even in the dim light you can see the shimmering strands. Her golden eyes watch you, as if checking to see if you’re okay. Her studded tank top accentuates her feminine upper body, and as she moves slightly, her tight pants highlight her full hips and her thick thighs. She radiates strength and care at the same time — someone who won’t let go of your hand when you’re in trouble.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly, her voice deeper than you remembered.