At some point during the night, something strange happened.
I relaxed.
Actually relaxed.
Which was shocking considering I was surrounded by people I barely knew in a party that looked like it cost more than my entire house.
But somehow, between the laughter, the music, and the way everyone talked to me like I belonged there, the tight knot I had been carrying in my chest slowly loosened.
Blake turned out to be a really nice guy.
Like... suspiciously nice.
He laughed easily, talked to everyone, and had this warm energy that made it impossible not to like him.
At some point he threw an arm over Blue's shoulder and said proudly, "This idiot is my younger brother, by the way."
I blinked.
Brother?
I looked between them.
Blake had warm brown hair and striking gray eyes.
Blue looked like someone carved him out of moonlight and chaos.
They did not look related.
Not even a little.
I opened my mouth to ask how that worked... then decided maybe my brain didn't need that level of confusion tonight.
So I kept quiet.
Meanwhile, Fiona had apparently taken it upon herself to become the official beverage distributor of the evening.
She came back from the bar carrying what looked like enough drinks to start a small nightclub.
"Alright," she said happily, placing the glasses down. "Everybody drink."
I stared at the colorful glass she handed me. "I've... actually never had alcohol before," I admitted.
Eighteen years of life.
Zero drinks.
My parents were the "water builds character" type.
The group stared at me like I had just confessed to living under a rock.
"You're serious?" Ethan asked.
"Dead serious."
Fiona gasped dramatically.
"That is unacceptable. A tragedy. A crime against youth."
Blue chuckled beside me. "You don't have to drink if you don't want to," he said quietly. His tone was calm. No pressure. No expectation. Which somehow made me want to try it more.
Everyone here looked my age.
Everyone here was drinking.
And something about tonight already felt unreal.
So... why not?
I picked up the glass. "Alright," I said.
The group cheered like I had just agreed to join a championship team.
"Careful," Henry laughed. "First drinks hit hard."
"I'll be fine," I said confidently.
Ten minutes later I discovered something important.
I was not fine.
Drink after drink, warmth spread through my chest like a tiny bonfire.
My head felt lighter. My thoughts felt... floaty.
Somewhere between my third and fourth drink, I raised my glass toward Blake with extreme seriousness. "I wish you a happy married life, Blake!" I declared loudly.
Blake burst out laughing and clinked his glass with mine.
"Thank you, sweetheart!" he said warmly before taking a drink.
"Also," I added very seriously, pointing at him, "if you ever hurt Jake, I will... I will..."
I squinted. "...strongly disapprove."
The table exploded into laughter.
Blue nearly choked on his wine.
"Terrifying," Ethan said.
"A true threat," Henry added.
Blue, meanwhile, stuck mostly to red wine. He talked with the others, laughed with them, but he never strayed far from me.
Every now and then I would catch him glancing at me.
Not casually. Not absentmindedly.
His gaze was intense. Focused like he was studying me. Like he was memorizing something.
It made my chest feel warm in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol. But before I could think about it too much, Fiona grabbed my hand.
"Alright!" she said. "Time to dance."
"I don't dance," I protested.
"You do tonight."
Before I could even think about escaping the situation with what little dignity I had left, Abigail suddenly joined the attack.
And just like that, I was dragged onto the dance floor.
The music was blasting loud enough to wake the dead, lights flashed in every color imaginable, and apparently drunk Mason had completely abandoned the concept of shame.
Which, in hindsight, was dangerous for everyone involved.
I pointed dramatically at Fiona like I had just discovered something life-changing.
"You," I announced with great importance.
Fiona blinked, laughing. "Yes?"
"You have amazing hair."
She laughed harder. "Thank you?"
"And Abigail—" I continued, spinning halfway around like a very unstable ballerina, "—you look like… like a Disney villain."
Abigail froze.
"…Is that a compliment?"
I straightened proudly.
"The best compliment."
Fiona nearly doubled over laughing.
Abigail stared at me for a second longer before shaking her head. "You know what? I'll take it."
And then, for reasons still unknown to science, the three of us started dancing.
Well.
They danced.
I… attempted something that legally might count as dancing.
At one point I tried to do a spin.
It was very dramatic.
It was also very unsuccessful.
My foot slipped and the room tilted sideways.
Fiona grabbed my arm before I could fully introduce myself to the floor.
"Careful!" she laughed.
"I meant to do that," I slurred confidently.
"Ah yes," Abigail nodded seriously. "The classic Almost Die Spin Move."
From across the room, Blue watched the entire disaster unfold with an amused smile tugging at his lips.
Henry leaned toward him, eyes following my chaotic dancing.
"Your friend is very entertaining."
Blue didn't answer.
He was still watching me.
Eventually the music slowed, the lights blurred together, and the drinks finally caught up to me like they had been patiently waiting for their moment of revenge.
My energy vanished instantly.
Like someone unplugged my batteries.
I stumbled off the dance floor and made my way toward the couches with the grace of a newborn giraffe.
"Blue," I mumbled.
He was beside me almost instantly.
"I'm tired," I announced like this was groundbreaking information.
"Yes," he said softly. "I noticed."
The room was still loud, people laughing and talking around us, but the couch suddenly felt like the most comfortable object in the universe.
Before I could fully process what was happening, Blue sat down and gently pulled me against him.
My head settled against his chest.
His arms wrapped around me, strong and steady, cold but also warm in a way that made the world feel quieter.
Safer.
I didn't protest.
Mostly because my brain had officially clocked out for the night.
Blue brushed my hair back from my face, his fingers moving slowly through it. The motion was gentle. Careful. Like he was holding something fragile.
"You drank too much," he murmured.
"Mmm," I replied intelligently.
My eyes were already closing.
Somewhere in my half-asleep brain, a small thought tried to form.
Blue was being… really nice to me.
Suspiciously nice.
But my brain, currently operating on alcohol fumes and poor decision-making, decided that mystery could wait until tomorrow.
Instead, I just melted further into him.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Sleepy.
And somewhere above me, Blue continued stroking my hair quietly, watching over me as the rest of the party faded into the background.
Like nothing else in the room mattered.