He knew she had stepped outside for a smoke earlier, and he was well aware that it was the only thing she could find to help her get through her daily life. There were problems that he couldn't solve no matter how much effort he put into it, and he never once held her smoking habit against her because it was the last thing she had. He'd never actually seen her under the influence before, but he was aware of the effects it had on her just by the way she would talk in the evenings on the phone.
Earlier that day, they had made plans for him to come over for dinner and a movie. This was a typical weekend routine, every Saturday night without fail. There was definitely an attraction between them, and they had gone pretty far on a few occasions though they never actually made it to the finish line. There was no doubt in either of their minds that the day would eventually come and they would both enjoy what they had to offer each other. That was the plan for tonight. To finally come together.
She sat slumped over on the sofa, her head bobbing around because of her high, zoning out while watching a show on TV. It was his turn to make dinner, so he stood in the kitchen getting everything prepped for the evening's meal. She had definitely found her relief through smoking this evening, to the point where she couldn't hold her head up and never even heard the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen. As time passed and she didn't join him in the kitchen, he decided to check on her.
There she was, completely disoriented, barely able to hold herself up on the sofa. Many thoughts ran through his mind. Should I carry her off to bed? Should I help lay her down and rest peacefully here? He gently wrapped his arms around her shoulders, careful not to let her long hair get caught up and pulled, and eased her torso down onto the cushions. He then wrapped his arms around her long legs and rotated them so that she was laid down on the couch comfortably. He placed a pillow under her head and she managed to slur out a thank you to him. He told her not to worry and how he just wanted to make her comfortable, and meandered back to the kitchen.
He went to the oven and turned it on to preheat it, but several thoughts interrupted him. He peeked around the corner into the living room and just watched her laying there so peacefully, so innocent. She looked just like an angel. Her head continued to move around and her eyes kept moving, both in a definitely disoriented fashion. She was definitely fucked up. There was no doubt about it.
The more he watched her, the more he just wanted to sit down on the edge of the sofa beside her and caress her. He turned the oven back off and found his way to the sofa, gently sitting down beside her and put his hand on her cheek. She smiled up at him, her head still moving around in a manner that strongly suggested how incoherent she was, and he kissed her forehead while running his fingers through her long hair. He decided perhaps she would be more comfortable in her bed.
He abandoned the dinner plans and wrapped one arm behind her torso and the other beneath her knees and lifted her up gingerly. She tried to tell him she wanted to stay where she was, but couldn't quite find the words to speak. He insisted she go lay down for a nap at the very least and continued towards the bedroom. She tried to resist, but all efforts to put up a fight were useless due to the effect of her high. He had no problems getting her to her room and comfortably positioning her on her back in bed. He laid down beside her on his side, his fingers gently rubbing her head and running through her hair. He once again kissed her forehead and she managed another smile. Just having him there to comfort her was a wonderful feeling. She'd never had anyone be there for her in her times of need, or any time for that matter, so just his presence was a welcome thing. He knew how much she appreciated it and had no issues with being there for her. Life had been a rough ride for her the past few years, and he'd been there with her every step of the way.
Her friend propped himself up on his elbow and watched that sweet little angel lay there, so incoherently. It almost broke his heart to know what she was going through. But yet, she looked so innocent. And she was so young. An absolutely beautiful young woman, both inside and outside. Her gorgeous flowing hair, her long legs, perfectly sculpted breasts, and eyes anyone could get lost in. He knew how much she valued their friendship and how much trust she had in him. She was such a pure soul, nothing short of amazing. And such a strong woman for all of her experiences and being able to handle them. With his help of course, and he had never asked for anything in return.
She was still barely awake, her head still rolling around, her obviously still incredibly fucked up. The poor thing seemed so helpless. She managed to look at him and smile again, so sweetly that it took much self-control to keep himself in line. He liked the sweet, innocent, pretty little young things, and she was everything he liked. He was everything she liked.
He couldn't take his eyes off of her, not for even a second. His hand moved from her hair down to her cheek as he gazed into her peaceful eyes. She was way too disoriented to see the hunger in his. He realized that he liked it that way.
His hands wandered from her cheek, down her neck, and found their way to her breasts. She was dressed quite comfortably, wearing a simple tank top and a pair of shorts. She tried to move his hand from her breast, quite a chore for her in her present state, and he grabbed her dainty wrists with his hand, holding them firmly above her head. She squirmed a little in protest, so with his free hand he unbuckled his belt, flipped her over, and used it to restrain her hands behind her back. She uttered a small whine of protest, and he pressed his index finger over her lips signaling for her to hush.