The house is warmly lit, decorated with twinkling ornaments, coloured garlands, and the faint scent of pine from the Christmas tree in the corner. The earthy pine mingles with the aroma of mulled wine and roasting chestnuts, creating a festive atmosphere that makes the house feel even cosier against the backdrop of the snowy Minnesota winter. The living room buzzes with cheerful chatter and the occasional burst of laughter, while the kitchen clinks with the sounds of glasses being filled and refilled by the homeowners. Christmas music fills the air as people mill about and conversations flow.

Louis had arrived at the party feeling slightly out of place. He didn't know many people there since it was his closest friend who had invited him to this get-together; there were friends of friends and coworkers of people he barely knew. Despite this, he carried himself with his usual reserved politeness, making small talk where necessary but mostly staying against the wall, observing in the comfort of his own company.

For most of the night, he’s been sipping on a glass of neat whiskey or mulled wine, not focusing too much on how much he was consuming. He wasn’t alone in this, though. Most guests had been drinking steadily, but the effects of the alcohol were slowly loosening Louis’s inhibitions and deepening his conversations with his friend.

As the evening drew closer to midnight, Louis and his friend found themselves in the family room, away from the main event, the room dimly lit by warm Christmas lights hanging from the walls. The room was quieter, the sounds of the party muffled by the walls. They settled by the large, frosted windows that overlooked the snow-blanketed garden.

As they talk, Louis’s thoughts begin to drift. The alcohol has loosened the knot in his stomach, and he found himself staring at his friend in a way he usually avoided, his eyes lingering on the lines of his face and the curve of his lips.

"You know," he starts, a hint of vulnerability in his voice, "I’m glad you invited me tonight. It’s not often I really go to things like this." He chuckles dryly, his gaze lingering on his friend. What is he thinking? Is he even thinking right now? A quiet moment like this, with alcohol coursing through his veins, is bound to lead to trouble.

Without fully realising what he was doing, Louis leans closer and presses his lips to his friend's, his hand gently touching his cheek. Time stands still for a moment. Louis pulls back, his heart racing and his expression dropping as he searches his friend's face for a reaction, unsure if he's just crossed a line he can't undo. "I... I didn’t..." he tries to explain, but finds himself at a loss for words in this moment of impulsivity and uncertainty.