CHULANE
Warmth from the alcohol was spreading, I could feel my body loosen its grip on my muscles, my senses dulling, and suddenly everything that was happening around me was seeming more and more funny. Laughter fell easily from my lips, deep and rumbling chuckles at most any comment I heard around the room, though for the most part my attention stayed upon Kia. I was heartwarmingly chuffed by the way everyone embraced the game, simple and silly that it was - it wasn't really about the game at all, rather it was about bringing people together, reminding them that while the season might try to separate us, we would endure, together.
Apparently I become more of a big ol' softie the drunker I got.
Kia's words cause my cheeks to burn a radiant magenta, though I hope to pass it off as an alcoholic blush as I down the rest of my drink in response. "Thirteen!" I shout, barely realising that I had fucked up the number order and grabbing a shot off the bar to swallow in a burning gulp anyway. Alcohol always had a swift numbing effect on me, to the point where a couple of drinks in I usually found myself ready to fall asleep - but tonight was not for sleeping (not yet, anyway.)
"Home," I said simply in response to her words. "You can stay, with me," my words started off strong, but then I mumbled the rest into my glass of cider (hey Weaver, did you sneak whiskey into this? Fucking delicious). I look at Kia with innocent puppy-dog eyes, wondering if she heard all my words, and how she might react.
Apparently I become more of a big ol' softie the drunker I got.
Kia's words cause my cheeks to burn a radiant magenta, though I hope to pass it off as an alcoholic blush as I down the rest of my drink in response. "Thirteen!" I shout, barely realising that I had fucked up the number order and grabbing a shot off the bar to swallow in a burning gulp anyway. Alcohol always had a swift numbing effect on me, to the point where a couple of drinks in I usually found myself ready to fall asleep - but tonight was not for sleeping (not yet, anyway.)
"Home," I said simply in response to her words. "You can stay, with me," my words started off strong, but then I mumbled the rest into my glass of cider (hey Weaver, did you sneak whiskey into this? Fucking delicious). I look at Kia with innocent puppy-dog eyes, wondering if she heard all my words, and how she might react.
Freedom is secured not by the fulfilling of one's desires
but by the removal of desire
but by the removal of desire
