The Witness

30

After our dinner, Kosta and I found ourselves on the couch, the living room filled with an unusual silence. Out of nowhere, our dad strolled in holding two bottles of beer.

"Kosta, Do you drink?" Dad inquired, catching Kosta off guard.

Mom suddenly entered the room, playfully hitting dad on the shoulder, causing him to wince in pain.

"It's alright, I'm up for some drinks tonight," Kosta exclaimed, surprising everyone with his enthusiasm.

"But you still have to drive," I reminded Kosta, concerned about the drinking and driving situation. He simply grinned at me, responding, "No worries, I don't get drunk easily."

"Oh, is that so?" Dad chuckled, handing Kosta a bottle.

Both of them began to enjoy their drinks, and as time passed, they became engrossed in a lighthearted and somewhat goofy conversation that only guys seem to have.

"Look at your dad and Kosta, enjoying their beers," Mom observed while I helped by drying the plates.

I sighed, saying, "Dad's always been a heavy drinker."

"Alcohol can be a way to relieve stress," Mom responded with a chuckle.

"You know, Kosta and André do share a resemblance. Is it because they're both Balkans, or just a coincidence?" Mom mused, glancing at Kosta

I could see the resemblance between him and André.

"He really does," I agreed.

As the evening wore on, the room was filled with laughter and stories from the past. Dad and Kosta seemed to have found a common ground, sharing anecdotes from their youth that had us all in stitches. Mom and I occasionally chimed in, but it was clear that the camaraderie between the two of them was the highlight of the evening.

As the bottles emptied, Kosta's initial enthusiasm gave way to a more relaxed demeanor. He leaned back on the couch, a content smile on his face. I couldn't help but feel grateful that he was getting along so well with my family.

"Kosta, you've got quite the knack for storytelling," Dad chuckled, clapping him on the back.

"Guess it runs in the blood," Kosta replied with a wink, his eyes slightly glazed from the beer.

As the hours ticked by, the clock chimed midnight. Mom, visibly fatigued, let out a yawn and stretched her tired limbs. Meanwhile, Dad had succumbed to alcohol and was now passed out, his state a clear testament to his indulgence. Kosta, too, seemed to have imbibed quite a bit, as he appeared to be in a state of drunkenness.

"Look at you, completely knocked out," Mom remarked as she attempted to lift Dad into her arms.

"Let me give you a hand," I offered, recognizing that Dad's weight was a challenge for my petite mother.

We managed to settle Dad into their bed, ensuring he was comfortable.

"What about Kosta?" I inquired, concerned about his condition.

"He's passed out as well," Mom replied with a hint of exasperation. "You should bring him to your room"

Mom's suggestion caught me off guard “What?!” I blurted out

"It's already midnight, and he's in no condition to drive," Mom explained. "Since he's consumed so much alcohol, it's safer for him to stay here.”

“Then where am I suppose to sleep?" I asked, ain't no way I'm gonna sleep with him.

“You can sleep in your sister's room.” Mom whispered not wanting to make loud noise.

I pondered her proposal for a moment, realizing that it was indeed too late for any ride-sharing services to be available. With a resigned sigh, I agreed to the arrangement.

Heading towards the living room, I spotted Kosta sprawled out on the couch. His head shifted slightly as he lay there, eyes closed in a state of drunken semi-consciousness.

I quietly chuckled while watching him sleep soundly, his peaceful expression resembling that of a child. Carefully, I made my way over to the couch.

"Kosta?" I murmured, giving his arm a gentle tap.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly woke up.

"wake up!" I said with a laugh, reaching out a hand to help him sit up on the couch.

Suddenly, he leaned forward, his eyes only slightly open.

"Am I in heaven?" he asked in a slurred voice, clearly influenced by alcohol.

"Huh?" I responded, a bit surprised by his question.

"Am I dead? Why do I see a beautiful angel?" he continued, his words making my heart race. Deep down, I knew his intoxicated state was causing him to say this.

I couldn't help but blush at his words, unsure of how to respond to his drunken ramblings. "Come on, I'll take you upstairs" I said, helping him to stand up luckily he cooperated.

I put Kosta into my bed, where he was very drunk and quickly fell asleep.

I sat next to him, happy as I saw his calm face. I softly moved a piece of hair from his face.

'He looks even better sleeping.' I whispered to myself.

Right now, I can't hide the feelings I've been having recently. I'm realizing that I'm slowly getting attached to his warmth, something I've never felt before.

I changed his position to make sure he was comfortable and fixed the blanket so he wouldn't catch cold.

As I got up, trying to leave, his sudden hold on my hand stopped me. I looked at him; his eyes were still closed. I looked at our hands together for a moment before gently taking mine away.

"Goodnight, Kosta" I murmured, with last glance. I left the room.