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"Minhoo!" he jumps off the couch and barely lands straight up. I drop the bag and catch him in my arms, looking down at his helpless state.
"What did your dumbass do this time?"
"Miss Minho."
"Jisung," I let out a small sigh, guiding his almost limp body towards the couch. He doesn't obey so I sit him down myself, crossing my arms over my chest and putting on a scolding face.
One that equivalents my mother's when she used to get mad at me for making tons of excuses to skip school.
"where the hell did you get alcohol from?"
"Top right cupboard–" drunk Jisung slurs out, hiccuping. "no, left."
My eyes wander towards the bottle that is more than half empty, a high percentage capturing my attention.
40%. Forty.
"How much did you drink?" I raise a question, my hands cupping his neck, thumbs caressing the sides of it.
"One sip. Maybe two, or three glasses, or.."
The boy is a mess.
His cheeks are red. His eyes, too, look glossy and out of focus, as if he's in a completely different world.
My head pounds with vain memories of Myungho swimming through. How, at first, I tried to take care of him although he didn't accept it.
He just screamed at me over and over again until I got sick and locked myself in my room.
It was horrible.
I look at Jisung's mouth that's displaying a luminous smile. He is precious, he's not like other drunkards. He can't be like him.
"Stay here." I murmur, already walking out of the living room. I place the groceries on the kitchen table beside the empty plate and fill a glass with water, returning back to the room that my friend transformed into a bar during the day.
"No wanna." he turns his head to the side, imitating the look on the kids' faces at my job whenever they don't comply with something.
"Drink."
"Nope!"
"Please?"
"Mm.."
Groaning, I force him to take a sip of water this time. He realizes that it's good and drinks it all. "there we go, Jisungie."
"Jisungie? Minho called me Jisungie!"
"I did? I think the alcohol is getting to that ridiculous little head of yours."
