Kieran slid his hands up her arms and grabbed her shoulders.
“Fight him!” he grunted as he braced himself against the tub and leaned back.
“What?” Sophary asked as she lurched into his arms and the grey veil lifted, but the the sudden gripped clamped around her waist answered her question. “No, No, no! Let me go!”
“What’s going on?” Mr. Al stormed into the bathroom. “What are you doing?”
Kieran and Sophary froze, mouth’s agape.
Sophary laughed as she pictured the scene from Mr. Al’s perspective. The force holding onto her lower body dissolved and she collapsed into Kieran’s arms.
“She’s hallucinating,” Kieran said after a moment. “I think she got a bad drink at that wedding.”
“Oh poor thing,” Mr. Al’s grew concerned. “I’ll phone the paramedics.”
“No!” Sophary and Keiran cried.
Mr. Al narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
“Hallucinating was the wrong word,” Kieran stuttered. “I think she’s just way over her limit, but not in a medically dangerous way. Just, well, in a she can’t take care of herself kind of way.”
Mr. Al looked doubtful. The excuse was so stupid that she laughed.
“I’ll be fine, Mr. Al,” She giggled, standing upright. The doorman averted his eyes.
“Let’s get you dressed,” Kieran smirked and guided her past Mr. Al.
“Let’s let the lady get dressed,” Mr. Al gave Kieran a stern look. Kieran glanced back at the bathroom before nodding and walking away.
Sophary scurried into a cozy pair of PJs and grabbed her phone before joining the men in the hall.
“I’ll be up at the end of my shift to check on both of you,” Mr. Al warned as he headed to the elevator.
“We’ll be right here,” Kieran opened the door to his apartment and waved Sophary inside.