Diary 4: Tipsy Night

"The weather is great today." I sat in the office, absentmindedly tapping my fingers on the desk while watching the leaves sway outside the window.

A notification popped up on my screen—an email. My new design collection had been approved! I couldn't help but smile, a rush of pride swelling in my chest.

"Congrats!" Linda leaned over and patted my shoulder. "We have to celebrate tonight!"

Before I could protest, the whole team had already gathered, excitedly suggesting we hit a bar. I glanced at my phone, hesitated for a second, then quickly texted Adrian:

"Going out with coworkers. I'll be home late."

His reply came quickly, brief yet polite: "Alright, stay safe."

"Okay. Be safe."

The bar was dimly lit, the bass from the speakers so deep it felt like the walls were vibrating. We were crammed around a table, cocktails in hand, half-eaten plates of fries scattered between us. We'd been drinking since six—it was now past ten. Somewhere between the laughter and clinking glasses, I'd lost track of how much I'd had. My head felt light, my body warm, like I was floating.

"One more!" Leo, one of my colleagues, grinned as he raised his glass. "It's your big day! No way you're going home sober."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "No, no, I'm done."

"Don't be a buzzkill!" He leaned in slightly, his tone carrying a hint of something playful. "I'll drink half for you. Deal?"

Before I could say anything, he was already pressing the glass toward my lips. Everyone was watching, waiting. I sighed, relenting with a small smile. "Fine. But this is the last one, okay? I'm serious."

It was already eleven. I had stayed out later before, but knowing Adrian was at home, I decided to call it a night.

"I'll drive you home," Leo offered, steadying my arm, his gaze warm.

"You were just telling me to drink, and now you're offering to drive?" I teased, half-drunk, half-amused.

The night breeze was cool against my skin as Leo helped me to my doorstep. I fumbled in my bag for my keys, taking a few tries before finally getting the door open.

The moment it swung open, a familiar figure came into view—Adrian stood in the entryway, the light behind him casting a long shadow. His gaze landed on our intertwined arms for a split second before he looked up, his expression unreadable.

"Adrian? You're still up?" I asked, surprised at how obviously drunk I sounded.

"Ah, you must be her younger brother?" Leo chuckled casually. "She had a bit too much to drink, so I brought her back."

Adrian didn't answer right away. His eyes shifted back to me, unreadable. He stood in the doorway, unmoving, as if waiting for something.

I gently pulled my arm away from Leo and straightened up. "Thanks for bringing me back. I'll be fine from here."

Leo, oblivious to the tension in the air, simply smiled and extended a hand to Adrian. "I'm Leo, her close colleague."

Adrian glanced at the outstretched hand, as if contemplating something. After a brief pause, he returned the handshake, his grip firm but fleeting, his gaze unwavering. Then, he took hold of my wrist and pulled me inside. "Thanks for bringing her home," he said to Leo.

Leo just nodded, still grinning. "No problem. Take care of her."

Before he could turn away, Adrian shut the door.

He still hadn't let go of my wrist.

"How much did you drink?" His voice was low.

"Not that much, don't worry." I waved a hand dismissively as I kicked off my shoes. "I've had more before. I told you, there's nothing to—"

He took my coat from me, his movements natural yet carrying an unspoken authority. "Next time, don't have someone else bring you home. Just call me."

I laughed, waving him off. "That'd be too much trouble."

Adrian's expression darkened slightly. "Is that because you still think of me as a kid? Or… am I just an outsider to you?"

His voice was calm, but there was something else beneath it—something almost vulnerable.

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then, emboldened by the alcohol, I reached up and pinched his cheek.

"Aww, are you sulking?"

He stiffened, ears instantly turning red. "No."

I giggled, cupping his face in my hands. "You used to be so clingy when you were little. What happened? You're so serious now."

His voice was barely above a whisper. "That was a long time ago… things are different now."

I chuckled, poking his arm. "Still, I kind of miss it. I wish you'd be more like before—more playful, more stubborn. The way you are now... feels a little unfamiliar."

His fingers curled slightly at his sides. Then, sighing, he muttered, "You're definitely drunk."

I tried walking toward my room, but my steps faltered, and I nearly stumbled. In the next second, his arm wrapped around my waist, catching me before I could fall. I found myself pressed against his chest, his warmth seeping through my clothes.

I looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close we were—so close I could see his eyelashes trembling, the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. His ears burned red, yet his hold on me remained firm.

The realization made my face heat up. I swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks..."

He didn't let go immediately. Instead, he looked down at me, his Adam's apple shifting slightly. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he simply released me and murmured, "I'll walk you to your room."

"I'll take you to your room," he said, voice quieter than before.

I nodded, heart pounding.

The next morning, my head throbbed like someone was hammering inside my skull. I groggily opened my eyes, squinting against the sunlight filtering through the curtains. Rolling over in an attempt to escape reality, I groaned as the movement sent another wave of pain through my head.

"Ugh... never drinking again..." I whined, burying my face in the pillow.

But it wasn't long before last night's memories came rushing back.

I bolted upright, instantly regretting it as dizziness hit me like a truck. Holding my forehead, I groaned, "Oh god, what did I do...?"

"Aahhh—!" I grabbed a pillow and buried my face in it, kicking my legs in frustration. "This is so embarrassing!"

The more I tried to suppress the memory, the clearer it became. His face—so close I could see every detail, his breath warm against my skin, the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. The way he held me—those strong yet gentle hands, keeping me steady yet making my heart race.

"No, no, no, stop thinking about it!" I smacked my cheeks in an attempt to shake off the thoughts.

But my heart was still pounding