Gabe Monroe

The walk home is relatively uneventful. Gabe behaves himself impeccably, aware that they're both a little drunk and that a lot of lines are blurred right now. Still, he doesn't think that anyone's drunk enough that they can't consent to anything that may (or may not) be about to happen.

"Well," says Gabe, on her doorstep, rumpled, with the knot in his tie loosened and his hair tumbled across his forehead. "I guess this is where I leave you. Unless..."

He leaves it hanging there between then.