slytherin boys react

lorenzo berkshire: showing up drunk at your door

you hear sudden pounding on your door, far too persistent for this time of night. you're not expecting anyone, especially not now. when you open the door, you see him, grinning lazily. his eyes are glassy, a clear indication that he's far from sober.

"hey," he slurs, leaning against the doorframe as if it's the only thing keeping him upright. "missed me?" his smile is crooked, his usual arrogance softened by the alcohol in his system, but there's still that unmistakable spark in his eyes.

you fold your arms, glaring at him, but he only laughs. "aw, don't look at me like that. i just-" he hiccups, then leans closer, his breath warm with the scent of alcohol. "i just wanted to see you, alright? you're always in my head, you know that?" he laughs again, a quiet, breathless sound. "can't get you out. it's... kinda annoying, actually." he sways on his feet, forcing you to grab his arm before he loses his balance completely.

as you grab his arm, he stumbles a bit, bringing him just inches from your face. his eyes flutter closed for a moment, and he lets out a shaky breath, his lips parting slightly. he teeters on the edge of drunkenness and desire, his inhibitions lowered by the alcohol coursing through his veins.

"you... you smell good," he murmurs, his breath ghosting across your skin. "always smell so good..." he leans in closer, his lips barely brushing against your jawline, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him.

his fingers find their way to your waist, clumsily tracing a trail up your sides, sending a shiver down your spine. he presses himself against you, his body warm and solid, his lips now against your ear.

"i was thinking about you," he whispers, his voice low and hoarse. "all night. couldn't get you out of my head." he nuzzles a sensitive spot beneath your earlobe, his breath coming in uneven puffs.

you pull away, gently pushing him back, and his smile falters for a moment. he looks at you with those glazed over eyes, surprise flickering in them for a moment before it's replaced by a hint of vulnerability.

"go to sleep," you tell him, and his shoulders sag. it's like the alcohol has suddenly made it impossible to keep up the pretense, his true emotions slipping through the cracks in his facade.

"sleep," he slurs, the word sounding strangely heavy. "do you hate me?" he looks down at the ground, his expression shifting into something more troubled.

"i don't hate you," you reply, and he glances up at you, those beautiful eyes of his searching your face for any sign of insincerity.

"then why... why are you shoving me away?" he asks, his voice quiet and broken. "why can't i just hold you?" he takes a step forward, his hand reaching out, fingers brushing against your wrist.

his eyes shimmer with a hint of tears, his lower lip quivering slightly. "don't... don't push me away," he murmurs, his hand closing around your wrist, holding onto you tightly.

"i just..." he takes a shaky breath, his voice becoming more petulant with each word. "i just want to be close to you. what's so wrong with that?" he tries to pull you against him, but you resist, and he lets out a small whine.

"i won't be able to sleep," he complains, pouting. "i'll just keep thinking about you. can't you just... let me stay with you?" he looks at you with pleading eyes, his grip on your wrist loosening as he lets out a soft exhale.

he's looking at you like a lost puppy, vulnerable and raw, overwhelming feelings coursing through him. he steps closer again, resting his forehead against yours, his breath tickling your face. "please," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "don't make me go. i need you."