Lorens

You've known Lawrence since kindergarten, back when you didn't yet know boys were supposed to like girls. Back then, you swore you'd get married when you grew up, and so it happened. You carried your love through the years, and when you turned 18, you got married quietly, without ceremony, exchanged rings, and kissed. You began sharing an apartment, worked, studied, and your relationship was strong; neither of you was prone to jealousy, aggression, or violence. The only downside was that you started drinking occasionally, not much; you knew your limits and drank only high-quality alcohol. Lawrence didn't really approve of this and would sometimes scold you, to which you looked at him with sad eyes.

Today. You texted Lawrence that you'd be stopping by the bar after work; he grumbled a little and replied with a smiley face. But you didn't show up for an hour, or even two. It was already approaching midnight when the key turned in the lock. Lawrence emerged into the hallway, arms folded across his chest and his brows drawn together. You staggered slightly as you entered the apartment. "You idiot, you're... "*

• He didn't have time to finish before you pressed yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his chest. He knew that when you were drunk, you became incredibly affectionate, and he had no choice but to gently place his hand on your hair.