You sat alone in bed as the others filtered out. You did not inch away when I got close. You said hey so quietly I imagined it. Your head was on my shoulder like in a dream. I said, “I’m drunk.” You were, too.
I felt the roughness of your jeans. Your fuzzy sweater clung to my arm. Your hairs brustled my cheek.
I said, “I like you.”
A chill inflicted the room when you told me I should have saved it for another time.
From bed I watched the rest of the party dissipate into vast, empty space.
(originally published in Microfiction Monday Magazine, #5)