[The headache and guilty conscience are the attraction of it for some people, the ones who drink to unlock the things that sobriety keeps caged. Others drink to forget the guilty conscience they live with already, and for the deserved distraction of the headache when culpability floods back in the morning.
Tonight, Chase drank because it was there, and because it was fun. Communal social lubrication in a party birthed from circumstance - usually the best kind. He hasn't drunk to excess, just to the point where a headache is edging in at his temples and his skin is still flushed pink though he stepped out of the shower five minutes ago. He's sugar dizzy himself, and the shirt slung over his arm is sticky with it, handprints from some nondescript bar.
He's making his way to his own room when he hears the clatter of heels, too high to be the princess, and lacking Saya's grace. It's too late to use his own barefoot advantage to avoid her altogether, so he waits as if he chose to, leaning against the wall until she appears along the corridor that leads to her room.]
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Tonight, Chase drank because it was there, and because it was fun. Communal social lubrication in a party birthed from circumstance - usually the best kind. He hasn't drunk to excess, just to the point where a headache is edging in at his temples and his skin is still flushed pink though he stepped out of the shower five minutes ago. He's sugar dizzy himself, and the shirt slung over his arm is sticky with it, handprints from some nondescript bar.
He's making his way to his own room when he hears the clatter of heels, too high to be the princess, and lacking Saya's grace. It's too late to use his own barefoot advantage to avoid her altogether, so he waits as if he chose to, leaning against the wall until she appears along the corridor that leads to her room.]
What time do you call this?