He realized then that alcohol hadn't made his feelings clearer; it had made them unreliable. It had turned a milestone into a mistake.
"I am," he admitted, his honesty stripped raw. "But I’m only brave enough to say it when I am. That’s the problem, right?"
The neon lights of the basement party blurred into a dizzying smear of color as Leo leaned against the cold washing machine. In his hand, a red solo cup felt heavier than it should. Across the room, Chloe was laughing—a sharp, melodic sound that usually felt like home, but tonight, it felt like static. druken teen sex
He didn't text her. Instead, he got up, showered, and walked to the park where they usually met. He waited on their bench, cold and sober, until she appeared. "Hey," she said, her voice cautious.
The next morning, the sun was a jagged blade cutting through Leo’s blinds. His head throbbed with a rhythmic, punishing beat. He reached for his phone, his thumb hovering over Chloe’s name. Memory was a fragmented thing—he remembered the neon, the heat, and the terrifying weight of the word love . He realized then that alcohol hadn't made his
They had been "something" for six months. Not quite a couple, but more than friends, tethered together by shared playlists and late-night texts. But tonight, the liquid courage in Leo’s cup was whispering that "something" wasn’t enough.
He stumbled toward her, his movements loose and uncoordinated. "Chloe," he slurred, catching her elbow. The music was so loud he had to press his forehead against hers to be heard. "I think… I think I’m actually in love with you." "But I’m only brave enough to say it when I am
For a second, the party vanished. There was just the smell of cheap cider and the heat of the crowded basement. Chloe reached up, tracing the line of his jaw. "You won’t remember saying it tomorrow," she said, her expression clouding with a sudden, sharp sadness. "And I won’t know if you meant it."