The smell of alcohol on his breath makes my stomach turn. Does he get into fights every time he's intoxicated? Who stops him when he does? His words ring in my head, you shouldn't be here. Why shouldn't I be here? Is he embarrassed for me to see him like this? The endless questions make me dizzy. I squeeze my hands against my thighs and pluck up the courage to respond.

"You need me here, so I'm staying."

"I don't need you here." He grumbles, still staring at the wall. "I don't need you; I don't need anyone." His voice cracks as he says this, and I know it isn't true. He needs me as much as I need him.

"Are you okay?" I repeat.

"What do you think?"

I take in his state. His t-shirt has a scuff on the right shoulder, the fabric thinning ever so slightly. The blood is starting to dry up on his knuckles and turn a deep crimson red. It's his blood, his blood from his anger-fuelled punches. The gash on his left brow is barely visible as his dishevelled brown hair falls into his face, reaching just above his eyes. The boy in front of me looks broken, inside, and out. My heart aches for him.

"I think we need to do something about that gash on your eyebrow or it'll get infected."

He shrugs lazily. "I don't care." He sniffs slightly and wipes the back of his hand against his nose. There's no pain in his eyes like I expected. It's almost as if he feels nothing. That scares me even more than the pain would.

"Well, I do." These words feel foreign on my tongue. His eyes widen slightly in shock but not as much as mine do. I'm more surprised than he is. Those two little words slipped past my barriers effortlessly and yet it doesn't feel wrong to say them.

His confused eyes meet mine. "Why?"

The ache in my heart burns brighter. The raw emotion that he tries so hard to mask shines through causing tears to prick my eyes, but I push them away. I shouldn't be the one on the verge of tears.

"I don't know," I tell him the complete truth. "There's just something about you that I'm drawn to." I seal my lips shuts after that. I shouldn't be pouring my heart out to someone who won't remember it in the morning.

"Someone could have gotten hurt tonight, seriously hurt," I say to get the attention off of what I admitted. The burning of my cheeks cools slightly, and I swallow hard.

His jaw tenses as he tightens his fists by his sides. "He wouldn't have gotten the chance to land another hit on me."

"I know," his lips part as his eyes meet mine, "by someone I meant him."

If this were any other day, I wouldn't have told him that in fear of his ego strangling me. But, today, I don't think about that. Today I just tell him.

A knot grows in my stomach at the confidence that I have in him. It scares me. When I saw him at the party, I wasn't worried about the boy taking the majority of the blows. I was worried about him. I was worried about how he would feel if I didn't stop him. The regret would eat him alive.

"We need to do something about that cut." I swipe my fingertips against his brow gently. Your confidence grows when you're intoxicated. My confidence grows when I'm with him. I don't need alcohol to be confident, I just need him.

Our eyes connect once more, and I gulp. Only, I don't hold his gaze. I stare at my clasped hands on my lap, trying not to pick at the skin around my fingernails. He might make me confident but he sure as hell makes me nervous.

"You have a first-aid kit at your house, right? I did a first-aid course back in London so I should be able to clean it for you. It's a funny story actually, I didn't plan on doing the course. I tripped in front of the woman running it and scraped my knee. She took me to the nurse and waited around to see if I was okay. Of course, I was fine. She suggested that I come along to the class during lunch so if anything like that happens at home then I'll know what to do. So, I did. I learnt a lot. Like how you should put pressure on-" I stop rambling once I feel his eyes still on me.

"God, you're beautiful." He breathes.

Those three words steal all of the air out of my lungs. A blush crawls its way onto my cheeks, staining them a deep red. He doesn't know what he's doing, Madison, remember that. His face inches closer to mine. My heart feels like it is going to explode. My tongue darts out to lick my lips involuntarily.

His eyes search mine for reassurance and I do something that I never thought I would do. I close the distance between us. His lips are on mine in seconds causing butterflies to burst out of my stomach at the contact. His hands roam around my body, sparking electricity everywhere he touches.

I melt into him, unable to get enough of him. My hands move up the nape of his neck and into his hair, pulling on the strands. He groans and a fire rumbles inside of me. I pull away to catch my breath. His mouth is immediately on my neck, peppering kisses along my bare collarbone.

My eyes widen once I realise what I'm doing and where I'm doing it. I push him away from me, trying to ignore the coldness that envelopes me once I do. I breathe heavily as his eyes pour into mine. He doesn't understand.

"You're drunk."

A lump forms in my throat. Our kiss will be something only I remember. All he'll have to remind him of this night is the gash on his eyebrow. All he'll remember is pain. I stand up. "I should get back to the party. I left Penny and Brody waiting for me, they'll be wondering where I am."

I walk out of the alley and look back one more time at where we shared our first and last kiss. Only, I'm not staring into the darkness, I'm staring into a pair of brown eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you," I stay silent, and he continues. "You're going to want to leave once you find them so I might as well go with you, we're all going to the same place after all." I nod, trying to hide the smile that's desperately trying to fight its way onto my face.

*

We get back to the house. I go in first as they wait on the doorstep. My eyes scan the room for any sign of Sophie or Henry. I walk further in to get a better look. My eyes latch onto a piece of paper held onto the fridge with a magnet. It reads 'went out with some friends, will be back before you wake up.' Upon reading this, I call them inside.

Archer strolls in like normal as Penny and Brody stumble in behind him. He doesn't look that drunk. I rush over to them, so they don't trip over and break something in the process.

It takes me a while, but I finally get them to go to bed. The click of the door and the silence that follows reminds me that it's just me and Archer.

"Where's your first aid kit?" I shout. His reply comes not long later. His head darts out from his room and I gesture him to follow me into the bathroom.

He sits on the countertop as I wash my hands, grabbing what I need. I move so I'm standing in between his legs and grab a wet cloth, dabbing it on the cut to try and remove some of the dried blood. I pull my lip in between my teeth in concentration.

"I'm not drunk, you know?"

His voice startles me causing me to place too much pressure on his brow. He winces in pain and I pull away, my eyes wide, apologising over and over again for hurting him. "It's fine." He gives me a reassuring smile. I go back to cleaning the cut, this time with soap.

"What do you mean you're not drunk?" I ask. Once the wound looks clean, I pop the lid on the antibiotic cream that I found in the kit and rub some onto it.

"In the alley, you said I was drunk. I'm not. Being punched in the face does wonders to sober someone up."

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He isn't drunk? "You're not- You mean-" He waits for me to string together a sentence that makes sense. "You mean when you kissed me..." I trail off, unable to finish.

"I wanted to." He admits. My heart leaps in my chest.

He wanted to kiss me. He wasn't just drunk and looking for a way to release his pent-up emotions. Archer actually wanted to kiss me. I search his face for any sign that he's joking but all I see is honesty. He's not joking.

My eyes jump around the room out of panic. I clear my throat. "Maybe I should've punched them two," I gesture to Penny and Brody sleeping in the room opposite. "I tried sobering them up with water, but they just threw it at each other." I laugh awkwardly, trying to reduce the tension that has grown since he dropped that bombshell.

"I wouldn't recommend that," his eyes crease in amusement. "I can handle it but them two, definitely not."

We don't mention the kiss for the rest of the night. I finish attending to his cuts and then we go our separate ways. Once I'm in my bedroom, I allow myself to freak out, shoving my pillow onto my face and letting out a frustrated groan. What am I doing?