Status: slow updates. but i promise I'm workin. i love you guys.

My Baby, My Darling.

Intoxicated Blunders.

Beep.

Hi Honey. We're just calling to let you know that we landed okay. Everything's fine, other than the fact that the airplane food made your father sick again. But, that's pretty normal, wouldn't you say? We're on our way to the new house, if this taxi cab would only figure out how to weave its way through all this traffic Aunt Sonia-style! I'll call you later on this week to make sure you're okay, but it will most likely be tomorrow. Sorry we missed you! Love you, be safe!

Beep.

I sighed, pulling my glasses off of the bridge of my nose and tossing them onto my kitchen counter. I brought my hands up to the sides of my head and rubbed my temples to calm myself down and rid my body of this tired state.

I had just come back to my apartment after a hectic day. I dropped my parents off at the airport after a fairly emotional goodbye, went to a few of my classes, and finished off with a ten-hour shift at the Cafe. I was, without a doubt, exhausted. I rolled my neck and rubbed my shoulders as I kicked off my flats, stretching my toes for the first time all day.

Not only was the stress of the day weighing down on me, but Travis's speech from the other night kept coming back to me, clouding my thoughts. Had I really changed since I started dating Dexter? Was I slowly losing a part of myself, of my independence because I was spending so much time with him. I knew from the beginning that I was treating Dexter far more different than I treat any other guy I've dated, but I always assumed it was because Dexter was the one that was different. I didn't think I had changed at all. Had I become weak? Did I adapt myself at all to match Dexter's life or modify myself to better fit his personality. Did our relationship change me?

I ventured over to my bedroom area, separated by a paper wall divider in my wide expanse of a living room. I lazily searched my dresser drawers for a pair of yoga pants and a tank top to sleep in and stumbled awkwardly in the dark as I changed, yawning every few seconds. After I tore the day's clothes off of my body, I fumbled onto my bed, snuggling against my comforter and turning off the lamp at my bedside, causing my entire apartment to blacken, all except for the moonlight streaming through my windows, reflecting off of my hardwood floors and the analog alarm-clock at my bedside reading 1:42 AM.

It seemed as though I had been sleeping for a total of two minutes before the ringing of my cell phone erupted all throughout my apartment. I cursed silently and forced myself to open my eyes, reaching for my phone on my bedside table. I squinted, looking at the alarm clock that now read 3:17 AM.

"I hate you." I muttered as I pressed the phone against my cheek, answering the call.

"Chelsea! Babyyyyyy, let's go out. I'll go pick you up right now. We'll go on an adventure or something. I'll buy you some coffee. Lord knows how much you love coffee, darling!"

"Dexter? What the fuck. It's 3 in the morning. Are you drunk?" I sat up in my bed, squinting my eyes as I tried to listen intently to the background noises on the other end of the phone. It sounded like he was in a bar, surrounded by people. I could hear laughter erupting on the other end and the phone sounded like it was being tossed around between different people.

"Hey. Hey, Che-Che. You've got to get down here, cousin!" Gabe's voice slurred over the other end of the phone. "There's a full out rager going on at this bar downtown. It's sick, man!"

I groaned, rolling my eyes and wishing I was asleep right now and not being dragged into heir heir drunken haze.

"Baby, you've got to come down here. We're at the bar on Hemet and Finseth." Dexter slurred into the phone, speaking loudly into the receiver, causing me to pull the phone away from my ear and wince.

"No, Dex. I'm sleeping." I groaned, ready to hang up the phone. "Call me when you're not drunk, baby. I don't have the patience for this right now."

"Can you c-come pick me up then, darling? I can't drive home." He spoke lightly into the receiver, seductively, but still slurring his words.

I rolled my eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. I knew how sensitive he was about drunk driving because of his mom. If I didn't pick him up, he would probably be stuck at that bar all night, alone. I didn't want that, and there's a good chance he won't remember where he is tomorrow morning. I've seen Dexter when he's drunk, it's deathly hilarious, but he doesn't remember a single thing in the morning.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes." I muttered, standing up from my bed and reaching for my sweats sitting on my desk chair in the corner of my room.

Cheers erupted on the other end of the phone as I ended the call, making my way out of my apartment, exhausted as hell.
---

"And that's when I says to the llama, I says, "Kuzco. That's not a futon, that's a woodchipper!" Gabe's drunken voice boomed from the other end of the bar as a series of slurred absurdities and obnoxious laughter followed the punch line to his most infamous drunk joke. Gabe tells the same joke over and over again when he's intoxicated. It's literally the least hilarious joke I've ever heard, but it will make you bust your guts in hysterics if you're drunk enough to understand it.

As I approached their section of the bar, consisting of more than thirty drunken college boys joking around and punching each other as they muttered incoherent phrases. I spotted Dexter lounging next to Gabe on a bar stool, spitting random bits of information about the bird flu in a mock British accent.

I cleared my throat from behind him, causing him to turn around to face me and blink a few times, as if barely coming to realization as to who I was.

"Darling! I was j-just telling Gabe over here about the bird flu. Remember the, the pam-pamphlets I brought to you? Do you have any on you by chance right now?" He spoke slowly, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close to him, flashing me a wide grin.

I shook my head, removing his hand from my waist. "No. I didn't bring any bird-flu pamphlets with me, Dex. Come on, let's go. I need to get some sleep." I pulled at his arm lazily, trying to get him to stand up.

"Yeah. Just let me p-pay for my drinks." he blinked a few times, reaching for his wallet.

Gabe erupted in laughter beside me. "We already paid, man. Remember?"

Dexter furrowed his eyebrows, staring at his open wallet in confusion. "Oh, right. Damn." And he just sat there, staring at his wallet for a few moments as if in a trance, sleeping with his eyes open.

"Dex. I'm exhausted. Please, get up?" I pulled on his arm again, finally able to get him to stand up. He put his wallet back into his pocket in a confused daze and allowed me to pull him away from the bar stool.

I looked back to Gabe, amused by the whole scene. "Do you need a ride, Junior?"

"C-cut it out with that Junior crap! I am a the god of lightning, for fuck's sake!" he stood up from his stool and placed his fists on his hips like superman or something like that.

I rolled my eyes, "Seriously, Gabe."

"Travis is coming to get me." he slurred, sending me a goofy smile as he sat back down.

Dexter scoffed from beside me, "That asshole."

My eyes shot to meet his, who merely narrowed his eyes, looking away from me, at a blank wall as his jaw clenched. I took a deep breath, not bothering to correct him in his drunken daze. "Let's go, darling." I muttered, pulling on his arm as I led him out of the bar.

I led him to my truck and walked around to the passenger door to unlock the door for him. As I reached for the handle, I felt him come up behind me, pressing his body into mine and running his lips along the side of my neck, his cool breath sending shivers down my spine as his cold fingertips brushed against my side, slowly raising the hem of my shirt and drawing circles into my skin.

I rolled my eyes and turned around, pushing him back. "Not now, Dexter. You're drunk." I shook my head slowly, brushing past him.

He grabbed my hand lightly, causing me to stop in my tracks and turn around to raise an eyebrow at him. "A small kiss then, sweetheart?" A lazy smirk played on his lips.

I blinked and relented for a second before nodded slowly, closing the distance between us to peck his lips quickly. However, the moment my lips made contact with his, his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I could smell the alcohol on him, it radiated from his body heat. I breathed in his scent, smelling of mint and beer. One of his hands slowly dropped below my waist, lightly gripping my butt.

I pushed against his shoulders abruptly, breaking the kiss. "Get in the car, Dex. We don't have time for this shit." I shook my head, sending him a warning glare.

He always got frisky when he was this drunk, it was like an impulse for him. I'd play along usually, I even found it sexy sometimes. But not to tonight, I was far too exhausted to play along with his wandering hands, no matter how strong an affect his actions had over me. But he remembered nothing in the morning, depending on his level of intoxication. I already knew he wouldn't remember any of this by tomorrow considering the amount of alcohol I smelled on him.

He smirked lightly and dropped his gaze to the ground, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck as he casually leaned against the side of my truck. "Not even a little bit?" He looked up to meet my eyes, a wide grin playing on his lips. My god, he was sexy.

I shook my head sternly, "No. Come on, Dexter. Get in the truck before I leave your ass at the bar."

He nodded slowly, dropping his gaze to the ground again as he lazily turned around, about to grab the door handle when a voice came up from behind me.

"Hey, guys. A little late night bar-hopping?"

I spun around, meeting Travis's hesitant smile as he jingled the car keys in his hand. His eyes drifted between me and Dexter, who was now standing in front of the open car door, his eyes narrowing at Travis. Travis met my eyes, raising his eyebrows as he waited for us to answer the question.

"Just picking up this goofball. He went a little to hard tonight." I smiled lazily, gesturing toward Dexter with my car keys still in my hand. "Gabe's probably still inside the bar, probably telling the llama joke for the fiftieth time."

Travis laughed lightly,  his eyes dropping to the ground before traveling past me toward Dexter.

"Yeah, Travis. Why don't you go on and get him." Dexter muttered sarcastically from behind me, his arm wrapping around my waist and abruptly pulling me into his frame.

I turned to Dexter and raised an eyebrow, sending him a look to knock it off. Now was not the time for his jealous remarks.

Travis nodded slowly, his expression changing to a challenging stare to match with Dexter, who's grip only tightened on my waist.

I rolled my eyes and cleared my throat, snapping them out of their daze. "I'm too  exhausted for this. So we're gonna go. Gabe's inside the bar, Travis. We'll see you later."

I pulled on Dexter's arm, gesturing towards the truck and sending him a warning stare. He turned and shrugged, reluctantly hoisting himself into the passenger's side like a child being told to brush his teeth before bed. I scoffed and spun around, about to make my way to the driver's side when Travis called out to me.

"We're okay, right?" he knitted his eyebrows in confusion as he awkwardly jingled his keys in his hand. "I mean, after the other night and all."

I nodded slowly, "Everything's fine. You're fine."

But to tell the truth, I wasn't sure. The other night made it seem like he wasn't happy that Dexter and I were together, which really unsettled me. Travis couldn't say things like that without implying something more. His disapproval means a great deal to me. It's like being reprimanded for my actions by an older brother. That is, if he was still taking up that role. Any other position in my life would be strange for him to fill. Big brother is where he belonged, as a mentor. 

It would only add to Dexter's suspicion, so I decided to keep Travis's words to myself, where it belonged. It wasn't a conversation about Dexter, it was about me. I needed to sort this out on my own. I needed to take a step back and evaluate whether or not I had changed since I met Dexter, whether I let to of a piece of myself or not.

---
"I'm just saying," Dexter angrily stuttered as I pushed open the door of my apartment, letting him in as he continued his angry rant. "That little fucker needs to back the fuck off."

"Dexter. Shut up. It's just Travis." I spoke calmly, letting out a yawn. "And could we cool it with the language, please?"

"Says the girl that swears like a sailor in her sleep." He scoffed, kicking off his shoes as I turned on the small lamp by the front door, lightly  illuminating my apartment. "And why are you defending him?"

"Because it's just Trav-"

"You always say that," he muttered, interrupting me as he pulled off his jacket, hanging it against the back of my couch. "'It's just Travis'" he tried to imitate my voice, still slightly slurring his words as he followed me past the paper divider, into my bedroom area where I was now stripping of my sweats and into my yoga pants.

"But you don't see what I see, baby." he pointed at me matter-of-factly before taking off his shirt and draping it over a nearby chair. "He has his eye on you, I'm sure of it. And you know what, I think you're enjoying it."

"What?" I hissed, narrowing my eyes at him as I angrily threw my sweater onto the floor. "What is that supposed to mean, Dexter?"

"It means," he stumbled lightly, trying to maintain his balance as he half-heartedly waved a finger at me, "you're enjoying the fact that he fancies you. What, is the feeling mutual or something? Should I get you two a motel room for the next time you two to out clubbing together? Don't think I didn't hear about the last remark he made, sweetheart, because I understood it loud and clear."

"Sleep on the couch, Dexter." I shook my head in anger, speaking with such intensity and biting venom to the point that I was yelling. In fact, I was fuming. I pointed towards the living room, snapping at him. "I don't have the patience or the energy to deal with your crap right now. And honestly, I can't stand to be in the same room as you after that last remark, let alone in the same bed. Frankly, I'd kick you out of my apartment right now if you weren't drunk out of your mind, but you're probably going to do some stupid shit like lie down on the middle of the highway or throw yourself down the stairs. I'm so angry with you right now to the point that I can't even be near you or I just might let you pull that stupid drunken shit out of spite. So, sleep on the motherfucking couch!"

He blinked, clenching his jaw before turning around slowly and drunkly stumbling out of my bedroom area towards my couch. What kind of an asshole pill did he swallow tonight? Whatever it was, the next morning was not going to be a good one for him, regardless of if he remembered this conversation or not. After those words left his mouth, I couldn't fucking care less.
♠ ♠ ♠
Oh, Dexter. What have you done?