It Is Well

His voice was soft, coaxing, but I could barely focus on what he was saying. All I could feel was the warmth of his body, the steadying grip of his hands on my waist, pulling me closer, holding me together when I was falling apart inside.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," he whispered, his lips brushing my ear.

I swayed, the weight of the alcohol pulling me under, but I nodded, feeling the last remnants of my judgment slipping away. There was no point in fighting it, not anymore. My life was already in ruins, and tonight, for just one night, I didn't want to feel anything but the heat of someone else's touch.

He helped me to my feet, his arm sliding around my waist as he guided me toward the door. The air outside was cool, but I barely registered the change in temperature. My mind was focused on him, the stranger who seemed so familiar but whose face I couldn't place.