Paper Airplanes

I watched her across the room as she danced while drunken off of some rich red wine. She took me by the hand and tugged me to the dance floor, "Have fun for once, rich boy". Although it sounded like a muted and blurred version of herself due to the alcohol in her veins. I wanted so bad to turn around and take her back home but her smile said other wise. Instead I swayed along to the music, hoping that a paper airplane could wisp her back up on her feet and make her realize that a bottle of red wine wasn't as exquisite as a cup of coffee.