"I'm sorry, I was drunk." He lamented.

I wish he hadn't.

My mind played memories of the heated moments. An unforgettable, spine shivering night that left me curious for more.

It felt wrong to feel this way. Why do I long this so?

"Why me?" I asked.

"...there's many reasons."

He explained it was my words. The loads of praise, he felt happy, and most definately didn't hate my face.

"You're cute." He said.

We talked and talked until it was finally uttered.

"What do you say, we go out for...maybe... another?"