The problem with the world is that everyone is a few drinks behind
The both stumble to the guild room. She doesn’t question his choice, not all that surprised by it really. There was something rather comfortable about their little hideaway, and though she is rarely in that room, there are times when no one is around that she’ll slip into it. It is her little slice of quiet, a place that not even Korbin knows about. Some part of her feels bad, like maybe she ought to tell the bugger, but she doesn’t trust him with this secret. How strange. There has never been anything she does not trust him with, but this? All she can imagine is the screaming match she’d get for joining something so illicit without consulting him, because apparently she cannot live her life without his damn permission.
Sunjata is successful in opening the door, and she gives him a grin. As it closes behind them, she turns around, tapping a small hole on the inside. ”You get out the same way you got in, though I’ll come make sure you aren’t stuck in here in the morning,” she says with a chuckle. She intended to stumble home, knowing full well if she didn’t, Korbin would get pissed off or worried or both. Besides, she only lives a few doors down.
For the moment though, she busies herself grabbing a few furs and gesturing to the couch. The fire lights in the hearth with a thought, wood already waiting and more beside it should the fire grow low and the room cold during the night. ”Maybe mother suits me,” she says with a chuckle. ”I’ll even tuck you in,” she teases. And she will, too, furs still in her arms, waiting for him.
Sunjata is successful in opening the door, and she gives him a grin. As it closes behind them, she turns around, tapping a small hole on the inside. ”You get out the same way you got in, though I’ll come make sure you aren’t stuck in here in the morning,” she says with a chuckle. She intended to stumble home, knowing full well if she didn’t, Korbin would get pissed off or worried or both. Besides, she only lives a few doors down.
For the moment though, she busies herself grabbing a few furs and gesturing to the couch. The fire lights in the hearth with a thought, wood already waiting and more beside it should the fire grow low and the room cold during the night. ”Maybe mother suits me,” she says with a chuckle. ”I’ll even tuck you in,” she teases. And she will, too, furs still in her arms, waiting for him.
Weaver
