Happiness is not an ideal of reason but of imagination
The reaction elicited from his beloved were, in a word, perfect. It was exactly what he’d been seeking from her – outrage and retaliation. Upon his face was a broad shiteating grin, as he put up no defence to the onslaught of paint-covered caresses upon his face and. Happily he leaned into the kiss her full lips proffered, perhaps a little too deep as his alcohol dampened mind momentarily forgot they were in a public area. The another drink appeared, which he accepted, hardly tasting the contents anymore (though certainly feeling the effects).
A very slight sway may have tilted his body for a moment as he very slowly tried to regather his thoughts and focus on the actual task at hand. He looked at the target with as much focus as he could muster, a very thoughtful frown creasing his forehead as he held his paint brush up before it. Another spattering of paint was showered all over him, though at this point he could hardly feel it – he could hardly feel anything, besides a very happy buzz, and a warm sense of home whenever his gaze happened to connect with Kia’s (even as she flicked paint at him in a way that was very much not accidental).
His one-track mind at the moment however, was ensnared on his target, as he made an attempt to paint it – though given that his paintbrush was only pointing the correct way some of time (his dexterity was evidently greatly impacted by his blood alcohol level), the success of this particular task was no doubt at great risk of turning into nothing more than a random shape of an even more random colour on a target.
A very slight sway may have tilted his body for a moment as he very slowly tried to regather his thoughts and focus on the actual task at hand. He looked at the target with as much focus as he could muster, a very thoughtful frown creasing his forehead as he held his paint brush up before it. Another spattering of paint was showered all over him, though at this point he could hardly feel it – he could hardly feel anything, besides a very happy buzz, and a warm sense of home whenever his gaze happened to connect with Kia’s (even as she flicked paint at him in a way that was very much not accidental).
His one-track mind at the moment however, was ensnared on his target, as he made an attempt to paint it – though given that his paintbrush was only pointing the correct way some of time (his dexterity was evidently greatly impacted by his blood alcohol level), the success of this particular task was no doubt at great risk of turning into nothing more than a random shape of an even more random colour on a target.
CHULANE
