Drunk Moments

As I approached the table, Louis's laughter rang out even louder, catching the attention of nearby diners. His usually composed demeanor had completely unraveled, and as I got closer, I could see his face flushed with the telltale signs of intoxication.

"Claire! Claire, my dear!" he called out, slurring his words as he waved his hand in an exaggerated motion. "Did you know… did you know that lobsters… they're just fancy sea bugs? Big ol' fancy… bugs!" He erupted into another fit of laughter, almost tipping his chair over as he leaned back.

I hurried to his side, quickly grabbing the back of his chair to steady him. "Louis, how much did you drink?" I asked, eyeing the empty bottles with a mix of concern and disbelief.

"Drink? Oh, just a little… a smidge… okay, maybe more than a smidge," he admitted, holding up his thumb and forefinger with an unsteady hand, his grin still plastered across his face. "But you know what, Claire? You… you're a beautiful… beautiful ladybug!" He reached out, trying to boop my nose but missed, his finger ending up somewhere near my cheek instead.

I shook my head, trying to suppress a laugh as I gently pushed his hand away. "Okay, Mr. Fancy Sea Bug, I think it's time we get you out of here before you start reciting poetry to the salad."

He giggled again, his eyes half-closed as he struggled to focus on my face. "But, but the salad… the salad… it needs to hear about… the beauty of commas! I mean, how could I forget that comma?" He punctuated his statement with a dramatic sigh, as if the memory of the infamous comma incident still weighed heavily on his mind.

I couldn't help but smile, despite the situation. "Yes, yes, the comma was a big deal, but I'm pretty sure the salad can wait for another time." I grabbed his coat from the back of the chair and helped him into it, noticing that his limbs were almost jelly-like as I guided his arms through the sleeves.

He looked at me with a sudden seriousness, his brow furrowing as if trying to remember something important. "Claire, did you know… that you have… the most beautiful… eyes? They're like… commas! Perfect little commas!" He nodded sagely as if he had just shared the most profound compliment in the world.

I bit my lip, trying to keep a straight face as I draped his arm over my shoulder and began steering him toward the exit. "Thank you, Louis. I'll take that as a compliment, even if I'm not quite sure what you mean."

He leaned heavily against me, his steps stumbling and uneven as we made our way through the restaurant. "You… you're welcome! And you know what else?" He paused dramatically, looking at me with a wide-eyed expression. "You smell like… victory! Like… a successful… PowerPoint presentation!"

This time, I couldn't hold back the laughter, and I shook my head as I pushed open the door to the cool night air. "Alright, Mr. PowerPoint, let's get you home before you start giving a TED talk in the parking lot."

Louis continued to ramble on about the importance of commas, spreadsheets, and something about being the CEO of his own destiny as I guided him toward the car. It was a struggle to keep him upright, but eventually, I managed to get him into the passenger seat, buckling him in as he began to doze off mid-sentence.

As I climbed into the driver's seat, I glanced over at Louis, who was now mumbling incoherently to himself, his head lolling to one side. With a sigh, I started the car and began the drive back to his place.

I parked the car in front of the mansion and stepped out to open the gate myself. "Sir, we're here," I said as I hurried to his side and opened the passenger door. He was slumped in his seat, mumbling words I couldn't quite make out. I leaned in closer and gently shook him. "Sir!"

His eyes fluttered open, and he gave me a slow, flustered smile. Despite the haze in his eyes, I could tell he was sober enough to talk. "Claire," he murmured, his voice thick and sultry. "You have no idea what you do to me… That dress... it's driving me crazy. Every curve, every inch of you—God, it's all I can think about."

My heart skipped a beat, a rush of heat flooding through me. I felt a blush creeping up my neck as his words sank in, each one making my pulse race. But then, I reminded myself—he's drunk. He doesn't mean it, I thought, trying to push down the warmth spreading inside me. 

He continued, his gaze roaming over me with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. "I want to feel your skin beneath my fingers, rip that dress off you, and taste every part of you," he whispered, his voice like velvet, soft and commanding at the same time. "You make me burn, Claire… I can't take it anymore."

I swallowed hard, trying to regain some composure as his words echoed in my mind, making me feel weak in the knees. He doesn't know what he's saying. He's just drunk. Oh god, this was too much. I cleared my throat, desperate to shift the atmosphere. "Let's get you inside," I managed to say, my voice trembling despite my efforts to stay calm.

We walked to the door, his arm slung over my shoulders as he leaned heavily on me. When we reached the entrance, I realized the door was locked. "Where are your keys, sir?" I asked, trying to keep him steady as he swayed slightly.

"Check my pants… I think they're there," he slurred, his head lolling closer to mine. But as I glanced down, I saw the problem—his keys were likely in the pocket that was, well, a little too close to his... you know what.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of him pressing down on me. Jeez, he weighs so much. My heart started racing again, but for an entirely different reason this time. I hesitated, unsure of what to do. The last thing I wanted was to make this situation more awkward than it already was.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to keep my voice steady. "Uh, sir, maybe you can… um, help me find them?" I suggested, hoping he could at least make it a little less uncomfortable. But his response was just a tired mumble, and I knew I was on my own with this one.

As I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, I reached out with trembling fingers toward his pocket. My other hand was pressed against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my palm. Just as I grazed the fabric, he shifted, and suddenly, his face was mere inches from mine.

My eyes snapped open, and I found myself staring into his, the closeness making my heart race wildly. His breath, a tantalizing mix of mint and alcohol, washed over my lips, sending a jolt of electricity through my entire body. Oh boy, this is so unbelievably hot. My mind spun, caught between the heat of the moment and the realization of how dangerously close we were.

"Your lips are so soft, Miss Claire," he whispered, his voice dripping with desire. His words sent a shiver down my spine, and before I could even process what was happening, he reached up, his fingers gently brushing against my lips. The touch was light, almost reverent, but it ignited something deep within me—a fire I couldn't control.

My breath hitched, and I felt my body respond instinctively, a surge of warmth spreading through me, pooling low in my belly. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of arousal and panic that had me teetering on the edge of something I couldn't quite name. His fingers lingered on my lips, tracing their shape with a tenderness that was almost maddening.

I could barely think straight. The feel of his touch, the way his voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket—it was too much. Every nerve in my body was alive, humming with a need I hadn't realized was there. I wanted to close the distance between us, to feel his lips on mine, to give in to the fire that was threatening to consume me.

But this wasn't right. He was drunk, and I was supposed to be the responsible one here. Save me, Lord, I begged silently, my mind at war with my body's urgent desires. 

Before I knew it, I shook the thoughts off and focused on the task at hand. My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, but I couldn't afford to get lost in them. With a determined breath, I reached into his pocket, managing to retrieve the keys despite the lingering tension.

"Got them," I said, my voice steady as I pulled the keys free. 

He looked at me with a dazed smile, his gaze softening. "You're incredible, Claire," he murmured, leaning against me slightly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I tried to ignore the way his words made my heart flutter, keeping my focus on getting us inside. "Let's get you settled," I said, try

ing to sound as composed as possible. "It's been a long night."