" ... I just ... Why me?" Wren continued, not hearing her small joke. He looked around the piano lounge and it was largely deserted but for the two of...them."Why not you?" Stacy asked. "It's getting late and we're alone." Yes," he said, for lack of anything better."I don't like to be alone, Wren," Stacy looked into his eyes. "It's Christmas." I know," he replied."Maybe I just want to give someone a gift," she smiled deliberately as if to break the sudden sobriety. "Even if it's only me." Only. It was as if she was locked in her own unconscious body, not aware enough to figure out what was going on, but also not asleep enough to loose all sense of self-awareness. She felt an itch on her boob and dazed the swatted her hand in that direction. Her arm didn’t respond the way it would normally respond, it was swaying through the air aimlessly and touched the hair of someone on top of her boob. Gelled hair. She let out a moan and tried to push them away. She blinked her eyes and tried to. More

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