Lennox. Me. & Apartment C.

013.

The liquor drained down the back of my throat pretty smoothly, which is to be expected after a couple shots into the night. The first one burns, the second isn't that much better, but the third is usually not bad at all. I grabbed my Sprite from the table to chase down the remaining vodka in the back of my throat. Lennox had his eyes squeezed shut and gently shook his head, clearly still affected by his choice of dark liquor. He brought his Coke up to his lips and tipped his head back. The only thing I could do was laugh. I was the happy-go-lucky, giddy, fun drunk who thinks she's invincible and it was starting to kick in. I sat opposite of him on the Sofa of Regret with my legs crossed, facing him. My back was against the armrest while he sat in the middle, facing the TV. Some random Top 40 music channel was our soundtrack and I singlehandedly supplied the animated laugh track.

"What was that?!" I all but yelled. "You look like a child trying to take liquid Tylenol. Aww, poor baby," I cooed, poking fun at Lennox's inability to handle the Bulleit.

"Whatever," he scoffed as he shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair.

I got up and went into the kitchen to grab something sweet and quick to eat. I was starting to get a case of the drunchies and need to curb it but I also had a craving for something really sweet, specifically a brownie. I scoured the kitchen for some form of a brownie but only found a cookie instead. I just ate it without complaining though, because it was at least double chocolate chip. I returned back to the living room with the final half of my cookie in between my fingers as I took another bite of it.

"I love this song!" I exclaimed as my latest song came through the speakers. "Let's dance!" I jumped up on the couch, standing on the cushions and pulled Lennox up to me. I just deposited the remaining portion of the cookie into my mouth and just finished it because #noragrets.

"Are you drunk?" Lennox asked me.

I answered with the epitome of a mixed signal. I remember wildly shaking my head and pointing down at the bottle of vodka in front me and with a straight face delivered the pun, "ABSOLUT-ely."  Unfortunately, I had yet to hit the point of the night where I would no longer be able to remember the embarrassing things I was doing. Lennox stood up beside me and we fell into the sofa cushions, clutching each other's hands, wrists, forearms, and whatever we could grab. I promise if this sounds absolutely nauseating and cringe-worthy, I promise it will get worse.

I hop down from the sofa and manage to pour myself another drink. Ok, you know how after the fact, you remember a certain point that you should have stopped. This was mine—this drink should have been my last for a couple hours and then I could keep going but you know that didn't happen, so on we go. I pour myself a drink, in order to be responsible and slow down from the shots, and I spill the vodka and the Sprite on the table. Regardless, I keep going, right? So we're here at this point of the night where I can't fully remember and put everything in perfect order, but here are the pieces I can put together.

Lennox and I were dancing and a slow song came on, but not just any slow song: the slow song—"Kiss Me" by Ed Sheeran. We didn't stop dancing, though. He just pulled me closer and brought his hands together on the small of my back. I moved closer to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. "This is sorta nice," Lennox said softly, looking down at me, after the song had played for a while. Ed's smooth voice had started to sing the chorus for the first time.

"Yeah, I guess it sorta is." I answer back though my voice seemed to get caught in my throat.

"'I guess?' You guess? What do you mean you guess?"

"I don't know—I'm just surprised that I'm enjoying this."

"Really?" Lennox game me a quizzical look in seeming disbelief and confusion.