Footsteps

Faintly, Ethan hears footsteps behind him.

Charlie hasn't noticed. Can't notice. Her body and brain are too ravaged by lust and alcohol. 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?"