Drunk

The party was winding down, but the warmth of the bonfire and the heady mix of laughter and music kept the night alive. I could barely stand straight, my vision slightly blurry as the alcohol coursed through my veins. Duke, ever the responsible one, had been watching me with increasing concern.

"Raven, it's time to go," Duke said, his voice firm but gentle. He placed a steadying hand on my arm, his touch warm and reassuring.

I blinked up at him, a drunken smile spreading across my face. "Why? The party's still going!"

"You're drunk," he replied, his eyes softening as he looked at me. "We need to get you home."

I wobbled on my feet, trying to focus on his face. "Duke, do you know what I think?"

He sighed, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "What do you think, Raven?"

"I think..." I hiccuped, giggling at the sound. "I think Mirabelle is trying to get you back."

Duke's expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Mirabelle? What are you talking about?"

I leaned closer, low