You stumbled into Queenie's apartment, your stockings crooked, hair a mess, missing one shoe, and clearly intoxicated. She tried to get you to come with her to your own apartment downstairs, but you fervently protested and so she stopped and listened instead.

"I love you, Queenie, I really do."

Her cheeks went red and she awkwardly scoffed, replying quickly;

"No, Y/N, you don't, you're drunk-"

"Listen to me!"

She swallowed the rest of her words and patiently did so.

"I didn't know what to do, 'cause I can't tell if you love me too, so I just thought I'd tell you, but I was too scared. I only- I only got drunk for the courage it gives me. You've got to believe me, Queenie, I really do, I love you."

She pulled you into a gentle hug and murmured in your ear, assuaging all your fears of rejection;

"I know. And I love you too."