“My hush is lush. It’s drunk on its own greenness, just as I’m drunk on my blue silence. What would you say if I asked you to turquoise?”

“I’m sorry, what did you say? I’m not fluent in stupid drunk slut”

“Love is to beer as I am to drunk. And you say I’m not romantic. Shoot, I’m so romantic I could just puke.”

“It's unpleasantly like being drunk." "What's so unpleasant about being drunk?" "You ask a glass of water.”

“I’m drunk, Travis. It’s the only excuse I have.”“You just want me to hold you until you fall asleep?”I didn’t answer.He shifted to look straight into my eyes. “I should say no to prove a point,” he said, his eyebrows pulling together. “But I would hate myself later if I said no and you never asked me again.”I nestled my cheek against his chest, and he tightened his arms, sighing. “You don’t need an excuse, Pigeon. All you have to do is ask.”

“It was late, I was drunk, you were warmto my hand, I would say, pleasedon’t leave, touch me there, butyou neverI was late, you were drunk, it was warmto my hand, I would want, justto please, you were there, butI neverI was warm, you were late, it was drunkto my touch, I was justlate to want, but I wouldleave you never”