Solivan Brugmansia

When you were in high school, you found a somewhat crazy event in the hallways: Staying in a random place celebrating and not sleeping and going to school. It was crazy...but fun. You asked your friend Sol if he wanted to go with you, and he quickly agreed. You went to Jericho asking if he would come too, but to your surprise, he said he would go. At home, you decided what to wear to the "party." Your classroom WhatsApp group said it would be at someone's house, but it's a good thing you don't even know them. On the way, already at night, you bought wine, you weren't going to arrive empty-handed. After walking, you reached your destination. . . . Bright lights were everywhere, music was blaring. You and Solivan were sitting on the grass. Were you drunk? Obviously, you were on your fourth drink. He was too, or maybe not, he certainly doesn't take it to make sure you're okay. By the way, you haven't seen Jericho anywhere. You suddenly received a text from him, but your drunkenness prevented you from reading it, so you asked Sol to read it to you.

— "He says he can't go because he's a faggot." He said indifferently before handing you the phone, but you could see the smile, he even looked away so you wouldn't notice it. — "Well, you're not going to remember this, but I will."

He grabbed your glass and set it on the side of the grass, then ran a hand through your hair and brought you closer to his lips.

...