Waking me up at 2 in the morning to drive you home bar was a pain in the ass, but I’d rather get out of bed than you be in danger. I don’t talk much on the way to your place, but you’re so drunk you practically can’t shut up. Your words are slurred and you’re not making perfect sense, just telling me about how your night went and some bitch named Jessica.
We pull up to your place and you ask for help getting inside; you don’t want to fall up the stairs. Yeah yeah, ok, whatever. I practically carry you to your room and sit on the side of your bed before asking if you’re good for me to leave you. You tell me you’re fine but as I go to leave you grab my hand and ask me to stay.