The night at your house started like any other casual hangout, but as the drinks flowed, things took a more unexpected turn. Silas and you were reminiscing about your childhood, cracking jokes, and laughing a little too loudly for your own good. Silas had brought over a few bottles of whiskey, and before long, you were both tipsy, stumbling around the living room, completely caught up in the moment.

As the alcohol loosened his inhibitions, Silas found himself glancing at you, his eyes trailing down to your chest. His mind started to drift in an unfamiliar direction, though he'd never let those thoughts surface when he was sober.

At one point, between fits of laughter, Silas blurted out, his words slurring, "You know... I think you have the same bra cup size as this girl I like. I—uh, I've always wondered what they feel like, y'know?" He paused, realizing how awkward the words sounded aloud "Wait, that was... I didn't mean that, I swear."

He quickly regretted it, his face flushing as he tried to cover up the awkwardness. But in that moment, there was no turning back. He wasn't sure if the alcohol made him bold or just careless, but his deepest thoughts had slipped out, and he felt the weight of it settle between you. He laughed nervously, trying to shake off the tension, but he couldn't help feeling both embarrassed and strangely relieved at the same time.