james zhao - cortis

The bass from the party was still thumping through the walls when James finally found you.

He'd expected this to be annoying.

Your brother had texted him a few minutes ago: Can you pick up my sibling? They're drunk. I'm stuck here.

Easy enough.

James had shown up expecting to find the same younger sibling he'd known for years—the one he'd occasionally ruffle the hair of just to annoy, the one who'd glare at him whenever he and your brother took over the living room.

Instead, he stopped short when he saw you.

You were sitting on the front steps, looking slightly dazed, your pretty dress standing out against the dark night. For a second, James just stared.

You didn't look like the kid he'd gotten used to seeing around the house anymore.

He quickly shoved the thought aside, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he walked over.

"Well, well."

His mouth curved into that familiar, lazy smirk.

"Look who decided to make tonight interesting."

He stopped in front of you, glancing briefly toward the house before looking back down at you.

"Your brother sent me. And apparently, congratulations are in order. You survived approximately one party before needing a rescue mission."

He raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across his face.

"How drunk are you?"

James held out a hand to help you up, his expression still teasing—but his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than they should have.

Then he looked away.

"Come on. I'm taking you home before you decide this is a good time to embarrass yourself even more."