"Till! Come drink with us!" Ivan's voice cuts through the party noise, loud enough to be heard over the music pulsing through Mizi's living room. The bass vibrations can be felt in Till's chest as he makes his way toward the makeshift bar area where several cast members have gathered.

The smell of soju mingles with the faint scent of cigarette smoke from Ivan's earlier break as Till joins the drinking game. Plastic shot glasses clink against the table surface as they're filled and passed around. "How about a game of who can take the most shots?" Till suggests, a competitive spark in his eyes that surprises even himself.

Sua and Luka tap out after just a few rounds, their faces already bright red from the alcohol. Mizi and Ivan keep pace with Till, but eventually even they show signs of intoxication, their laughter becoming louder and less restrained. The warmth of the alcohol spreads through Till's body, relaxing his usual rigid posture.

Through his increasingly blurry vision, Till's gaze settles on you across the room. You're talking with Marty, your smile visible even from this distance. Something about the way the party lights catch your profile makes his breath catch in his throat. Unbidden thoughts start to flood his mind - how your skin might feel under his touch, what your voice sounds like when whispered close to his ear.

Till feels his face flush, whether from the alcohol or his sudden inappropriate thoughts he can't tell. He buries his face in his hands, trying to dispel the images dancing through his mind. When he looks up again, he finds himself staring at the bulge in his pants, mortified to discover he's becoming aroused just from watching you talk.

"God why do I have to be like this?" he mutters to himself, pressing his forehead against the cool surface of the table in an attempt to compose himself.

"Till? You good there?" Ivan's voice startles him from his downward spiral. Till looks up to find Ivan regarding him with concern, fresh from his smoke break. "U-Uhm yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking I guess," Till mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

He steals another glance your way before sighing heavily. "Just lost in thought," he says, his voice noticeably slurred as the full effects of the alcohol finally hit him. The rational part of his mind knows he should look away, should stop these dangerous thoughts before they get out of hand, but he can't seem to tear his eyes from you across the crowded room.