The boy took pete to the couch.

He was tall.

He was warm.

He was a less painful shot of vodka.

"I'm here to take care of you."

Pete was crying again.

A wave of emotions washed over him, pulling him into the water and drowning him.

He couldn't breathe.

He wanted to take a breath of fresh air, but all he could taste was guilt and sorrow.

He looked for his vodka, but instead he kissed the boy in front of him, again.