Patrick was in such a drunken stupor that his vision was blurred. As he reluctantly opened his eyes, a lovely young woman stood before him. Her visage was sweet and oddly familiar, transporting him back to his youth.
Suddenly, he was thirteen again, locked in a dimly lit room with this very girl. Guards patrolled outside, and a menacing dog loomed inside. Patrick had harbored a lifelong fear of dogs, but the girl had held him close, offering solace.
"Dogs aren't scary at all. If you show fear, they'll bark at you," the girl reassured him in the darkness. Her large, starry eyes twinkled, illuminating Patrick's heart.
In their quiet moments, she teased, "Does this mean I saved your life? Without me, you'd have been terrified to death by that dog. So, you should marry me when we grow up!"
Patrick readily agreed, "Okay."
In his inebriated state, the girl before him now seemed to be the embodiment of that cherished memory. He murmured, "Candy, do you remember? We were locked together in that dark room. You saved me from the big dog and even bandaged my wound."
Dark room? Big dog? Bandaging his wound? Jane's head throbbed as though something from the depths of her memory tried to resurface. Unfortunately, it remained just out of reach.
"Candy, do you know I've searched for you all these years? It's incredible to finally see you again," Patrick whispered, taking Jane's hand and brushing his lips against it. Her hand exuded a sweet fragrance, confirming his belief that she was his Candy. "Candy, you smell so delightful," he mumbled, intoxicated by her scent.
"Patrick, you're drunk. Let go of me!" Jane chided, feeling helpless when dealing with a drunken Patrick.
In his befuddled state, Patrick refused, clutching her hand with tenacity. "Please don't leave me, Candy."
"Alright," Jane conceded, "let me help you to your room." Her aim was to swiftly extricate herself from this situation.
After all, she couldn't stay in the living room with him all night. She was willing to lend a hand by escorting him to his room. Jane strained to help him to his feet, yet his sheer weight presented a challenge.
"Patrick, get up quickly. Don't just lie here on the floor!" she urged.
Patrick gazed up at her with unfocused eyes and consented, "Alright, Candy. I'll get up."
Jane was perplexed by the name 'Candy,' but she managed to assist him onto his feet. Patrick encircled her shoulders, leaning heavily against her. His warm breath wafted over her face as his head rested against the side of her head.
The proximity made Jane uncomfortable, and the memory of their bathroom kiss resurfaced, fueling her inner turmoil. She inched away from him, but Patrick clung even tighter.
Her teeth clenched in frustration, she held him upright and proceeded to guide him up the stairs. As they finally reached his floor and Jane heaved a sigh of relief, a woman's voice pierced the silence. "What are you doing?"
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