Apple Cider Whispers | Daerin

1. Find A Cure For My Life

The party was in full swing, the bass thumping so hard that it felt like it was reverberating through my bones. Bodies were gyrating on the makeshift dance floor, moving in time with the pulsating beat. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, perfume, and alcohol. Drinks were being passed around freely, sloshing in red cups as laughter and shouts filled the room.

Amidst the chaos, one thing was certain: Danielle was drunk.

She stood in the center of the crowd, her movements unsteady but spirited. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes had that glazed, faraway look. She laughed loudly at something someone said, the sound carrying over the music. I could see her swaying slightly, her grip on her cup tenuous at best.

I watched as she took another sip, her balance faltering. The guy next to her steadied her with a hand on her arm, and she turned to him with a bright, if somewhat unfocused, smile. It was clear she was enjoying herself, but I couldn't shake the worry gnawing at my insides.

Pushing through the crowd, I made my way towards her. Each step felt like wading through a sea of bodies, the throng of people seeming to close in around me. When I finally reached her, I gently took her cup from her hand.

"Danielle, I think you've had enough," I said, trying to keep my voice calm and steady despite the loud music.

She looked at me, blinking slowly as if trying to process my words. "Oh, hey!" she exclaimed, her voice slurring slightly. "I'm having so much fun!"

"I know, but it's time to slow down a bit," I replied, slipping an arm around her waist to help keep her steady. "Let's get you some water."

She pouted but didn't resist as I guided her away from the dance floor. As we moved towards the kitchen, I couldn't help but glance back at the party, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. Danielle needed to be looked after, and I was determined to be the one to do it.

Danielle is a very honest, grumpy, and droopy drunk. As I try to get her to drink some water, she stubbornly refuses, pushing the glass away with a clumsy hand.

"Come on, Danielle, you need to drink this," I insist, holding the glass out again.

"No," she grumbles, her eyes half-closed. "I don't want it."

Before I can argue further, she suddenly doubles over, clutching her stomach. I barely have time to react before she hurls into the kitchen sink. The sound and sight of it make my stomach turn, but I quickly compose myself and start rubbing her back soothingly.

Once she's done, I grab some paper towels and clean her up, wiping her mouth gently. "Why are you being so difficult?" I ask, my voice tinged with frustration and concern.

"Why're you helping me?" she mumbles, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

For some reason, this moment, amidst the chaos and the mess, feels like the perfect time to confess. I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "Because I care about you, Danielle. More than just as a friend."

What am I saying?

She looks up at me, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What do you mean?" she slurs, trying to focus.

"I mean that I've been in love with you for a long time," I say, my voice trembling slightly. "And seeing you like this, it scares me. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I want to be there for you, not just tonight, but always."

Danielle blinks slowly, processing my words. For a moment, I think she might have fallen asleep, but then she reaches out and grabs my hand, holding it tightly. "I don't know what to say," she murmurs, her grip firm despite her inebriation.