He spent the night drinking alcohol of all sorts, mustering courage. We didn't even want to dance together because the tension will kill us. And who wants to die on the dancefloor?
But he got himself drunk enough.. And I got myself drunk perfectly, that I can no longer see the sea of people around us, even if I try. It was just him and me somehow ending up our limbs locking us up together.
Danced the night away, just like always. And he was there, and I can't remember how it happened, but he just kissed me. And I kissed him back. As if the kiss was long overdue. And he kissed everything. He kissed my eyes, my nose, my cheeks, my forehead, my hair. And we were holding so tight, so loved. So young and restless and happy.
The people looked. But I couldn't care less. We were finally what we were supposed to be, I guess. Together. Uncomplicated. Myself hanging on his shoulders, my bare feet on his chucks, my heels dangling on my hands behind him. Laughing, as always.
And we were just so happy on the way home. Holding hands. Comfortable. Laughing. In love, I guess. My heart is still beating fast at the thought of everything, and not even a badcase of hangover can stop me from feeling as giddy as ever.
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