The familiar door code beeps sounded under her fingertips before she opened the door. He was not supposed to be home until 4am, so she was surprised to see the hallway light on. Was he actually home or did she forget to turn off the light when she left? She could not remember; she had come back from drinking with her friends after all. Clumsily she pulled off her shoes and hung up her bag on the wall rack.

“Jackson?” she called out. The apartment was silent.

Turning the corner, she saw him sitting at the work desk with headphone on. It looked like there was a music composition window open on the laptop he was facing.

“Jackson,” she said again. No response from him. She chuckled a moment and then leaned against the wall next to the light switch. Flickering it twice, he looked up to the ceiling and removed his headphones. He then turned around and saw her leaning there.

“You’re home early,” she said as she rested her head on the wall.

“You’re home late,” he responded standing up and crossing the distance between the two. She turned to put her back on the wall and he grabbed her hips. Leaning in he stopped just before kissing her. “You’ve been drinking,” he stated and kissed her nose, “Go brush your teeth.”

She whined and stamped her foot lightly but pushed herself off the wall and slid from under him. After brushing her teeth, she returned to the living room and saw him sitting on the couch looking at his phone. With all of the boldness of alcohol she took away the phone and sat in his lap. His face did not look angry though. His smile was wide as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Did you have fun with your friends?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yes,” she smiled, before adding, “but I left them early because I wanted to be home before you. But you got here first.” The alcohol made her pouty.

He grabbed her chin and wiggled it slightly. “Stop you’re whining,” he said and then pulled her chin down for a kiss. He pulled back, but she moved in to kiss him longer. In a moment she was straddling him and moving her hands down his torso.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he said pulling away his lips and stopping her hands at his waistline. “Someone’s moving fast.”

She did not respond and began to kiss him again with urgency. This time moving her hands under his shirt, slowly bringing it up. He lifted his arms and she pulled off the shirt. Her hands were cold on his hot chest. His breaths were getting deeper, but he forced his hands to stay on her legs only. Out of impatience, she moved to take off her own shirt, but this is where he stopped her.

“Hey, slow down,” he squeezed her legs and looked into her eyes, “don’t you think you’re moving a little fast?”

“But I want you,” was her statement.

“And I want you too, but you don’t normally act like this when you’re drunk. You don’t usually want to do this type of stuff.” His gaze searched hers.

She looked away from him and into the hallway. “I want to get over it.”

“Listen, I’m all for helping you work through things. I just don’t want you to be pushing yourself in the wrong ways.”

She kept silent, still looking into the dark hallway. He watched her shut down. The quiet moment held for longer than he liked.

“Do you want to take a shower? It might make you feel better,” he asked while rubbing her arm.

She nodded her head and stood up. Taking her waist, he guided her to the bathroom. After he made the shower water warm, he helped her take off her clothes. Before she stepped in, he kissed her on the forehead.

“I’ll be in bed,” he said softly before leaving the bathroom and closing the door.

He tossed her clothes in the laundry basket and the humidifier because she liked it. After grabbing his phone from the living room, he laid in bed scrolling through comments on a video he was in. Soon the shower turned off and she walked into the dim bedroom with just a towel on. Dropping it in the laundry basket, she put on her pajamas and got into the bed. Automatically she wrapped herself around him and he turned to face her.

“Feel better?” he asked while moving her hair away from her neck.

“I feel less drunk,” was her reply. “I’m sorry for making you take care of me,” she added.

“Babe, you’re here every night taking care of me. I should be doing the same for you.” Then he spoke tentatively, “you don’t need to push yourself for me, you know.”

“I know, but I just want to be normal. Get drunk, have fun. Why can’t I be like that?” She sounded defeated.

“We’ll get there eventually,” he reassured her.

“It just feels like if I don’t try, he’ll always be in my mind when I get like this.”

“He hurt you, so it might just take some time, baby,” he said with comfort in his voice.

She looked him in the eyes, which reflected the small amount of light in the room. “But I want to try tonight. I want to be with you.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She kissed him. “Yes,” she breathed.

“We can stop at any time; you just have to tell me, okay?” he reassured.

She pulled his hand onto her waist and pressed into him with a kiss.