Chapter 986 986: You Can Treat Me At Your Will
Chapter 986 986: You Can Treat Me At Your Will
?
"Gross!" Irish felt something and pushed him away.
Joseph laughed, "Who is gross?"
Irish glared at him.
"All right." From behind, Joseph put his arms around her and took green pepper, saying with a gentle smile, "I will always love you and will not leave you. If it really happens, you can treat me at your will."
Irish pressed her body against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat pulsating through her, and a sweet taste filled the air, tickling her nose.
"Alright," she said, looking at him.
He lowered his head and gave her a light peck on the lips, but it didn't feel like enough, so he deepened the kiss.
"Mmm," Irish gently pushed him away and placed the basket before him. "Wash the green peppers."
Joseph smiled contentedly. "Alright."
****
The dinner was incredibly delicious, with Steven showcasing his gourmet skills. The aroma of the dishes mingled with the fragrance of wine, creating a festive atmosphere.
Throughout the dinner, no one mentioned Joseph's resignation. However, Steven, being serious, advised Lilith, "Lilith, you must let go of the past. You are still young, and you shouldn't lose yourself."
Lilith nodded earnestly and turned to Jay. Blushing, she caught his gaze.
The meal ended before ten in the evening.
The four men had consumed several bottles of wine, and those who weren't accustomed to drinking had become intoxicated.
Joseph, in particular, was the most drunk.
Usually, Joseph could handle alcohol well due to his social engagements, and Daisy would assist him. This was the first time Irish had seen him in such a state. Compared to the other men, Jay drank less but still ended up drunk. Since Jordan couldn't drive, they arranged for a driver. With the help of Jay and Mary, they settled Joseph into the car.
When the car door closed, the scent of alcohol lingered.
Irish looked at Joseph leaning in the back seat as their aunt returned. His eyes were closed, and the buttons of his shirt were loosened, revealing a glimpse of his chest.
Despite being drunk, his face wasn't as flushed as the others.
Instead, he looked pale.
The more intoxicated he became, the paler he appeared.
Initially, Irish had been concerned about his stomach. However, he kept assuring everyone that he was fine during the meal. Now, as he peacefully slept without any signs of discomfort, Irish felt somewhat relieved.
As soon as she stepped on the accelerator, the car departed.
When people are happy, they find it challenging to become intoxicated. However, when they are feeling depressed, they tend to drink more in order to cope with their worries.
Joseph was inebriated.
Thankfully, he managed to avoid vomiting on the way home, remaining quiet. When the car came to a stop, Irish realized how tall he was and wondered how she could assist him in entering the house.
She called his name twice.
Joseph's response was minimal, and his head was tilted. There was a faint line between his eyebrows, indicating discomfort or a habitual frown.
The soft light from the garage floor lamp, gentle and not harsh, resembled moonlight scattered on the ground. It illuminated his cheek and nose as it passed through the window, while the other side of his face remained in shadow. His thin lips curled slightly, giving his chin a tense appearance.
Irish contemplated, extending her hand towards him and calling his name multiple times. He merely opened his eyes, revealing his typically calm black eyes, now muddled and intoxicated.
This was the first time it had happened.
And it occurred right in front of her.
It was not easy to assist him out of the car. With her slender shoulders pressed against his chest, Irish supported him. He stumbled and swayed, making the short distance to the elevator challenging.
Joseph's body weighed heavily on top of Irish's. She clenched her teeth, struggling to take even a small step forward. She thought to herself how fortunate it was that he was cooperating, as she wondered what she would do if he remained completely motionless.
Eventually, they made it into the elevator.
Inside the confined space, it was just the two of them.
His cheeks were almost touching her face, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body. The smell of alcohol lingered heavily in the air, filling her ears.
"Irish…" Joseph whispered her name in her ear.
His voice was slurred, matching his current state of consciousness.
Irish was exhausted and found it difficult to catch her breath. She couldn't respond immediately.
Finally, they reached the living room, and Irish had never longed for the comfort of the sofa more. She managed to carry him, and he whispered her name again. This time, she replied, "Yes, we're finally home."
With their brief conversation concluded, she released her grip and allowed him to sit on the sofa.
He was so intoxicated that his legs lacked strength, causing his body to lean and lose balance along with the fatigued Irish. They both tumbled onto the spacious sofa, with the man's tall frame pressing firmly against her.
The man's heavy liquor smell came to her.
The strong man's breath entwined her breath with the alcohol fragrance, and the atmosphere was increasingly dangerous.
Irish was pressed by him almost breathlessly, and she could only try to hold his shoulders so that between the two, there was at least a little space. Joseph looked at her with drunk eyes. He lowered his head and said in a low voice.
"Irish." He was still calling her name like he was making sure the woman under him was his.
"I'm here." Irish answered again, releasing a hand to touch his cheek, "You are drunk, and I will make tea for you, and then you can rest early."
Joseph's face pressed down even closer, almost touching hers. There was only a centimeter of space between his lips and hers, allowing her to sense the extent of his intoxication.
"Irish, do you believe me?" he asked vaguely.
Irish felt a pang of pain in her heart, and she allowed him to cling to her. She responded softly, "I believe in you."
"Do you believe that I can bring you happiness?" he asked, his gaze unfocused yet direct, with a hint of desperation in his voice.
She nodded softly, "I do."
When hearing these words, Joseph smiled widely.
In his intoxicated state, he acted somewhat presumptuous yet also displayed a hint of insecurity. Irish realized that he wouldn't ask her such a question when he was sober. At that moment, she perceived him as a vulnerable child, much like Jordan.
As a result, his smile appeared genuine, emanating from deep within his heart.
A smile graced his lips, spreading into his intoxicated eyes, making the person reflected in them appear even more intoxicated. When Joseph was sober, there was a captivating charm in his focused gaze. Yet, when he was drunk, a different charm emerged—a charm of decadence.