= CHRIS POV =

I looked up at Sarah in shock. Like…this was my wet fucking dream. To have this ethereal beauty, in my arms, in my bed, engaging in activities that only a touch-starved sexually-deprived lesbian could think of?

I rubbed my forehead with my hand. But no. She was clearly drunk out of her mind. Sarah would never offer these terms, let alone agree to them. I would be taking advantage of the one person I held dearer than my own soul…and even then I still took advantage of her whenever I could. 

But even this, for me, was taking it too far.

 All I wanted to do was offer her a room, free of charge, for as long as she wanted, and I was going to stick to that. 

"What, do you not want me? I can cook and clean! Look at this apartment! Has it ever been cleaner?" Sarah exclaimed, jumping to her feet all of a sudden " Look at it!" she said.

I watched her flailing around drunkenly. After a few moments of watching her warily, I stood up as well. Sarah was looking pretty crazy right now with her hands flapping about, trying to show me her apartment like it was A-Grade Wagyu Beef.

"Yes, yes it is. It looks great. You can clean…I guess…though isn’t this a service apartment? Anyway, aside from that, you know I'm a chef, right? So I usually do most of the cooking at home, so..." I began.

"So fine, the two Cs", Sarah said and grabbed the paper from the table, scratched off the "Three" and put "Two" with a ball-pointed pen she had tucked away in her bra.

Oh to be that fucking pen right now.

"And I live in a service apartment, so..." I said, reaching out for the contract and taking it from her. This was getting out of hand.

Sarah looked up at me with tears in her eyes. Her body was so close, her face so flushed. 

I couldn’t help but reach out and draw her close, holding her against my taller frame, just wanting to look into those pretty eyes, no matter how tipsy and irrational their owner was.

"Then what are you saying? You don't even think I'm good enough to suck your-"

"Shh. STOP IT! Sarah, stop it" I said, half laughing as I pressed a finger to her lips.

I then ran my thumb across those lips. 

To have those pretty fucking lips on my cunt….jeezz….

I sighed and released her, turning to look back at the contract in my other hand. 

I needed the blood to be in my head, not in my pants right now!

 " Ok, OK. Look, I'll cancel the cleaning service. You can clean if you want. And I'll try your cooking. Just, calm down. Ok? I need you to sit down and sober up. We can't be signing contracts like this, especially if you are drunk," I told her, feeling really out of my element.

"Well, I'm not going to your apartment without some terms and conditions. I don't want to suddenly get a late-night visit or an eviction notice delivered to my room! I am a paying customer!" Sarah said and burped.

I buried my face in my hands. 

Oh God, give me a sign. Before you strike me down, let me write into my will that I bequeath my apartment to this drunken bombshell so that she can live rent-free and guilt-free in my quarters, and so that I don’t transgress…

My mind raced as to how to word this in such a manner that would calm her down and get her into my car,  without needing to argue with her sexy drunken ass any longer.

Technically…I would be the landlord.

Which meant that I would be asking for payments, right? 

Which meant that I just… didn't have to collect. 

What was most important wasn’t who was right or wrong - cause clearly reality and logic was not one of Sarah’s strong suits in her current state - I just needed her to calm down, and agree on something.

Humour her delusions, just as long as it takes to get her out of here in one piece. I told myself.