Footsteps

Faintly, Ethan hears footsteps behind him.

Charlie hasn't noticed. Can't notice. Her body and brain are too ravaged by lust and ****. Ethan isn't really all that much better off, but he's sober enough to notice, drunk enough to not care.

He feels a presence draw in close to him, a face drawing close to his on the opposite shoulder from where Charlie is buried.

A whisper, barely audible, meant for only his ear.

"May I join you?"