The music flowed slowly, and the familiar place with its familiar scent made Samuel Johnson feel very relaxed and comfortable. With his eyes closed, he slowly sipped his drink while the voices of Tim Morrison and others chatting filled the room. Everything was familiar.
He felt someone's gaze from a corner. After taking another sip, he quickly remembered who was sitting there.
Just thinking about that person being there made him much more at ease with his drinking.
It didn't matter, as long as she was there, it wouldn't matter if he got drunk, she would take him home.
Just like countless times before at gatherings, that person was always quietly watching him from a corner, almost blending into the darkness. If he didn't pay attention, he wouldn't even realize she was still there.
But just the thought of her presence brought him some comfort; it had become a habit.
He got drunk, and she would take him home.
