Midnight Regrets

He leaned closer to the gate, hands gripping the bars. “Vivienne, please open the gate,” he begged, voice shaky. “I’m sorry. Please, I really don’t have anyone to talk to.”

She sighed, folding her arms tightly against the night breeze. “You’re drunk, and you really need to go home, Tristan.”

“I can’t,” he said, his words slurring just slightly. His eyes were heavy, but they stayed fixed on her lik