The kitchen had seen better days. Nate's attempts at making...whatever it was he was trying to do had left flour all over the counters and egg on the floor. Sam, who had always been meticulous about cleaning as he cooked, was struggling to not look about the kitchen with a disgusted expression.
"Well, I...I heard things were a little better, and I finished the work I had to do, for the moment." He explained, leaning against the door frame. "What...are you trying to make?"
Before he could wait properly for an answer though, he slipped, tipping forward and holding himself up with the edge of the counter. "Oh, sorry, I -- I haven't drunk in a little while. I saw The Voice, but...it was a while ago now, and.." Shaking his head, he sat down in a chair and rubbed his temples. "I'm just a little weak. I'll have to go to the shrine tomorrow."
Samuel
I tried to dance with the devil on your back
