(starters inspired by too many drinks, city lights, and the kind of honesty that only comes after midnight)
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆
“You look like you could use another drink… or a bad decision.”
“Don’t tell me you came here alone.”
“I’m not drunk, I’m just—emotionally flexible right now.”
“One more round, and I might actually tell you what I’m thinking.”
“I didn’t plan on running into you here.”
“You’ve got that look—like you’re either about to confess something or start a fight.”
“You’re staring again. Should I take that as an invitation?”
“You ever think about how many bad ideas start with a shot glass?”
“You dance like you’re trying to forget something.”
“It’s way past decent hours—what are you still doing out?”
𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆, 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓
“You can stop pretending you’re fine. Nobody believes it after their third drink.”
“I thought you didn’t drink anymore.”
“It’s funny—liquor makes you honest, but you still can’t say what you really want, can you?”
“You shouldn’t walk home alone. I’ll come with you.”
“You always talk like this when you’ve had too much.”
“You smell like smoke and regret. It suits you.”
“Let’s make a pact—we don’t talk about this in the morning.”
“You shouldn’t have kissed me. But I’m not asking you to stop.”
“You ever get drunk enough to think the world might love you back?”
“We’re both going to regret this tomorrow, aren’t we?”
𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏
“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done? I’ll go first.”
“Tell me a truth—just one. The kind you’d never say sober.”
“You’re going to forget this conversation in the morning, right?”
“If I told you I missed you, would you blame the alcohol?”
“You keep drinking like you’re trying to forget something. Or someone.”
“I didn’t mean to call you. My hands just remembered your number.”
“Why are you crying? Don’t tell me it’s just the gin.”
“You said you don’t love me anymore, but you’re still here.”
“Do you ever wonder how we got this lost?”
“Sometimes, I think the night listens better than people do.”
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 — quiet streets, unspoken things
“I’ll walk you home. You can pretend you don’t need me to.”
“It’s too late for goodbyes, isn’t it?”
“We shouldn’t have let it get this far.”
“You can hold my hand. Just for tonight.”
“Do you ever wish you’d met me sober?”
“Don’t fall asleep yet. The world feels softer when it’s still spinning.”
“Stay until the city forgets our names.”
“You look different under the streetlights.”
“Promise me you won’t vanish when morning comes.”
“I don’t know what I’ll remember most — the taste of the drink, or you.”
