Midnight Rendezvous: A SandRay Story

Chapter 18: I'm Going Back to You

Chapter 18

Ray's POV

The night had turned into a chaotic disaster. I watched as Mew downed more drinks, trying to numb his pain, and Cheum took charge of his care as he spiraled deeper into drunkenness. The whiskey in my glass did little to mask the bitterness and turmoil in my gut.

As the night wore on, Boston and Nick slipped away, presumably off to celebrate another mess that Boston had made worse with his vile comments and their surprising reunion. Boston and the sense of shame are clearly strangers to each other.

At some point, I found myself drunkenly standing outside Sand's apartment at 4 am, guided by an impulse I couldn't quite comprehend. Maybe I was shameless or desperate, or maybe I just needed the comfort of Sand's presence, even though I had hurt him.

My inebriated state made me stumble to his door, and I had to sit down as a wave of nausea overcame me. I was overwhelmed by a mix of emotions, from regret and anger to longing and confusion. What brought me here? Why was I doing this when I knew that Sand had left in anger?

Sitting there with my head between my knees, I tried to calm the storm of emotions raging within me. The alcohol and the night's events had left me disoriented and vulnerable. I was haunted by the memory of Sand's hurt expression, and the realization that I had been a part of this chaotic mess gnawed at me. The confusion brought about by my undefined feelings for Mew had never really gone away, and my actions had hurt Sand, who had always been kind and caring to me.

SAND's POV

As I left the dawn air behind and entered my apartment, I was greeted by an unexpected sight. There, sitting at my doorstep, was Ray. His head was resting on his raised knees, and he seemed inebriated, maybe even asleep.

I approached him cautiously, touching his knees. "Ray, Ray?" I shook him gently, worried about how he had ended up here.

Slowly, he raised his head, disoriented and tear-streaked. "Sand! Sand, I was coming to see you. What are you doing here? Sand, I miss you," he whimpered, reaching out for me.

"Ray, you're at my door. I should be asking you what you're doing here," I replied, pushing back slightly to maintain some distance. Dealing with a drunk, affectionate Ray was both heart wrenching and tempting, especially in my vulnerable state.

He looked around, then back at me, and groaned, "Ugh, I am so dizzy. The world's spinning."

"Go home, Ray. I don't want to talk to you," I told him, my voice tinged with frustration.

"But I can't drive, Sand! I can't even stand," he giggled, seemingly entertained by his drunken predicament.

I asked him about how he got here, fearing he might have driven in his intoxicated state. Ray explained that he had been dropped off by a designated driver, which relieved me somewhat.

Exhausted and not wanting to deal with this situation, I decided to take Ray inside and let him sleep off his drunkenness. I removed his shoes and jacket, placing him on the couch.

Once in my room, I undressed and settled into bed, intending to get some much-needed rest. But the bright morning light through my window and a weight on my chest disrupted my slumber. Groggy and disoriented, I turned my head to find Ray, now dressed only in his boxers, snuggled up beside me, his arms wrapped around me.

The sight of him sleeping so peacefully, his face serene, sent my heart into a whirl. I whispered softly, "I don't know what I can do to get over you anymore, Ray."

As carefully as I could, I extracted myself from his embrace. The temptation of his presence was strong, but I knew it was best to maintain some distance for now. So, I decided to get up and prepare breakfast, leaving Ray to sleep in peace and giving myself time to think about the tangled mess we found ourselves in.