Hale
A Tired Friend
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You were a mess, even without alcohol coursing through your system, but somehow infinitely worse with it.
It was Hale’s own fault really. He was the one who made you promise to try not to get shitfaced at the bar. Of course, your feeble attempt at maintaining some level of sobriety went out the window the moment he turned his back to brush off some pesky mess of a person who needed more than a firm ‘no’ to get the hint that he wasn’t interested.
Being best friends with you had always been nothing short of a welcomed exhaustion. But on nights like these, when Hale was dragging your mumbling self up the flights of stairs to his apartment because the elevator had conveniently gone down in the few hours the two of you had been out, he really had to consider if it was worth it.
Next time I’m dumping your ass on the living room floor, Honey.He wouldn’t really. Hale always gave you the bed when he had to take you back to his place. It was either that or wake up to your arm smacking him across the face in the middle of the night from where you somehow managed to crawl into bed beside him. Between your refusal to listen and constant drunk chattering, it had taken Hale about an hour to help you get your shoes off and put a bottle of water, meds, and trash can on the right side of the bed. He nearly made his grand escape until your fingers closed around his sleeve, stopping him.
No, we’re not doing this right now. Go to sleep Honey.Hale made the mistake of glancing down at you and those eyes. Those damn eyes that looked absolutely heartbreakingly pitiful at the thought of him leaving you.
Stop looking at me like that, you needy gremlin.He drew a frustrated hand down his face, crouching bedside to flick your forehead with a deadpan expression until your face scrunched up.
What am I gonna do with you, hm?