"C'mon Two, let's get you to bed." I tell my drunk boyfriend. He stumbled back to our house after having fun with some old buddies from high school. I told him not to go out with him, he can't control himself with alcohol, but he went anyways. He wondered his way home, I don't know how he possible could. Now, I have to care for his intoxicated butt.
"No, I want the - the couch."
"Let's go to the bathroom first baby." He nods, and looks a little green. "Let me open the door."
"Ya know, Y/N," he starts, "yesterday, a clown opened a door for me. I thought it was a nice jester." He falls into a fit of laughter. I couldn't help to chuckle at how stupid that was, and how much it cracked him up.
I sat him into the couch and took off his shirt, which had some sort of stain. I put on a clean shirt and put the stained one in the hamper. "How the hell did you even get home?" I ask myself quietly while I try to get him to do absolutely anything.
I finally got him up and we were making our way to our bedroom. I throw him into the bed, and he curls up on top of the blankets. "Baby?" He asks me, his voice kind of sing-songy. "Can you get me something for the morning?"
"Keith," I tell him sternly, leaving to get him some aspirin and a glass of water. "you have to stop this."
"You know you love me." He slurs.
"Yeah I do." I say and kiss him in the cheek. "Goodnight Two."
"Goodnight doll." He says, breathing out heavily.
"Hey." I try to get his attention before he falls asleep.
"What?" He answers quietly.
"If you're gonna hurl, please don't do it on the bed." I close the door behind me and sleep in the guest bedroom.
