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)