*Harry's P.O.V.*
Boy, good thing Paul showed up after all. There was no way I would have been able to drive back anywhere. At this moment, it is hard for me to keep my balance, but for some reason I feel a giddy feeling inside. After all, it's my birthday, I'm drunk, and I have my wonderful girlfriend by my side.
*Julianne's P.O.V.*
As soon as Harry and I stumble into the apartment, I immediately run into the kitchen and throw up the contents of my stomach. I have no idea where Harry went, but as I release the majority of the alcohol from my system, I automatically wish that I didn't drink as much as I did. If this is the effects of alcohol on me, I can only imagine how Harry will be tomorrow when he wakes up, especially because of the fact that he drank at least three times more than I did. After cleaning my mouth off, and washing my hands, I pull the garbage bag that now holds my disgusting vomit, out of the garbage bin, and head to grab a glass of water. I feel much more sober than I did a couple of hours ago, I guess the effects of the alcohol are really subsiding now that I threw up. Harry, on the other hand, is still full on wasted. From the kitchen, I hear him mumbling all sorts of nonsense, and once I can get a glimpse at him, he is practically tipping over at step that he takes. I fully step out of the kitchen to find him struggling to make his way up the stairs. After some trouble, he gives up and lays down on one of the steps, causing me to slightly chuckle.
"Harry, come on, get up." I say while trying to hold back laughter. There is still enough alcohol to cause me to find little things funny, but hey, I rather be in a laughing mood, then in the one that I was previously in.
"No. I'm trying to sleep." He closes his eyes and chuckles.
"You can sleep upstairs, on your bed." I try to convince him.
"This is my bed." He frowns while still keeping his eyes closed.
"No, this is the staircase." I chuckle.
"Says who?" He responds.
"Says me, and the proven fact that this is a staircase." I continue to chuckle at the nonsense of a conversation that we are having right now.
"Promise?" He asks me.
"Promise what?" I become confused.
"Promise that this is a statue case." He says seriously and my eyebrows officially join in confusion.
"You mean a staircase?" I am trying my hardest not to burst out in laughter.
"Statue case." He mumbles.
"Ok, Harry. Yes, this is a statue case, not your bed. Now come on, let's go." I agree to his new name of the staircase as I try to pull his body up to a standing position. When we both fully get up, the alcohol hits me yet again as I become dizzy and almost fall off of the step. I close my eyes for a couple of seconds and then quickly return to helping Harry up the stairs.
