His kisses are soft and smell of alcohol. You're trying to make him walk with you, but he's a lot heavier than he looks and he doesn't want to walk with you at all. His kisses are wet and eager and for a weak moment you respond them, before you keep on dragging him with you towards the car.
Seth's is talking during the car ride home, his head leans against the window and the words are muffled and soft. You try not to look at him, try to focus on the road and once again silently count the drinks you had had during the night. Three, maybe four, but definitively three. Seth shifts in his seat and his hand is on your tie, burning through the fabric. He's drunk, because only drunk Seth would ever dare to do something like that. You remove the hand gentle, and try as hard as you can to focus on the road.
You feel relieved when you finally turn up in front of the house. Seth manages to get out of the car on his own and walks on unsteady legs toward the pool house. You follow him slowly; wanting to tell him that he should walk up to his own room and sleep it off. You want to tell him that you don't want to deal with this again, that you had had enough. You want to tell him that you're tired of always being the strong one, but you don't say anything; you just follow him into your pool house and close the door behind you.
When he kisses you again, you don't resist it anymore. You let him sweep you down on the bed, let his unsteady eager hands feel your body. Drunk Seth is not shy, drunk Seth whispers your name in a way that makes you shiver, drunk Seth kisses hard and passionately without ever coming up for air. How can something that feels so right be so wrong?
Not until his hands start to work on your belt, you make him stop. Because Seth is drunk, he doesn't have to think about the consequences, but you have to. And how much it every hurts to ask him to stop, you have to.
He comes up, resting on his back beside you and you do not dare to look at him.
"I think I'm kind of drunk dude." He finally says. "Either that, or your bed has always been twirling."
You don't answer. He doesn't expect you to.
"I mean I never noticed it before, but that doesn't mean that it can't be possible. Maybe this is the reality. Maybe everything always twirls, but we usually can't feel it until…"
You stand up in the middle of his rambling and he looks surprised at you.
"Hey dude, where are you going?"
"Have to pee." You say and then you add. "And when I return, you really should be gone, Seth."
"Yeah." And then when you already have turned your back against him he adds. "I love you."
"What?" You turn around, hopping that you heard it wrong.
"I love you." He repeats and before you have a chance to react he turns around, facing away from you.
You walk in to the toilet, slamming the door shut behind you. Then you sink down on the floor resting your head in your hands. Because he's not supposed to love you, he's not even supposed to wanting to be with you. You're like the dog that was found on the street and taken home and cleaned. Because no matter how many nice tuxedos they ever buy for you, you will still only be that filthy dog. You will never be good enough for anybody here, and absolutely never for Seth. Seth is fragile and you will end up breaking his heart. Because that's the only thing you really know, how to break things.
When you walk back into the room Seth is still there, of course. You slip down beside him because if you wake him up you will have to talk to him again and right now you don't have the strange to meet his chocolate brown eyes. So you just close your eyes and try to sleep...