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Home.
You want to go home.
Amid the torrent of confused screams that plague your mind, your instinct leads you back to your apartment at half-past eleven in the evening, much sooner than your typical arrivals during the wee hours of the morning.
The early return is met with surprise from a groggy, half-asleep Nanami.
From the shared master bedroom, he lifts his head from the mattress while trying to not awaken the slumbering Haru between his strong arms.
With his angle, Nanami looks past the open bedroom door, observing you crouch and meet eye-to-eye with the mini-fridge in the living room.
There is only one thing inside that cooler, and that's when the blonde realizes that something is clearly not right.
Furrowing his brows, Nanami carefully slips away from Haru and rushes over to your hunched and quietly sobbing form, watching as you desperately fumble with a bottle of hard liquor.
He immediately pulls the vodka container away with one hand while the other pulls you up from the floor in one swoop, flushing your trembling figure against the man's muscled chest.
The man glances downward, not flinching the slightest when he notices the smeared mascara and eyeshadow that runs down the beautiful face that he already adores.
Slowly, one of his eyebrows lifts into a questioning arch.
What the heck are you doing?
You catch the fusion of worry and anger from the soft brown that shines through his gaze.
Then, there's a barrage of questions.
"Don't you know what happens if you drink?" Nanami scolds as he moves the vodka away from your grasp. "What's wrong? Why are you home now? Did the club close early?"
You give up on the intoxicating taste of freedom, and an exasperated breath moves past your pretty lips.
"Kento, it's..."
You bite your tongue, effectively silencing yourself.
Nanami would go absolutely berserk if he knew that you had bumped into that obnoxiously tall and stupid idiot whom both of you hated.
