She was drunk again.
The holly-fucking-jolly season always put her in the mood for some tasty adult beverages with even tastier adult activities. But wait-
The creak of tiny feet snap the woman out of a drunken lullaby. She is covered in slick sweat, the faint drift of bourbon is on her skin and on her tongue. A hand lifts and fingers spread to catch the dark headed woman as she clutches her skull. She is shaking gently, unstable. "I'm never drinking again..." She slurs under her breath. Dark eyes glance to catch 2:03 am on the alarm clock. "Huh." Oak remarks with a bit of confusion. Typically after a pisser like tonight she sleeps till around at least eleven the next morning. But something woke her. Oddly, the woman feels strange as she swings her legs out from the cotton covers. She feels too bare in her red flannel pants and shirt.
"I must still be fucked up."
The words are muttered as she feels the urge to urinate and makes her way to the bathroom. It's as she sits down that a smash from the living room pops like static through the house and Oakheart quite literally pisses herself on the toilet...that is mildly comical to the dark haired girl for a fleeting second before she realizes she isn't dreaming...no her dreams were of meadows and water falls. And horses.
"And horses." The words uttered absentmindedly as she wipes herself and pulls up her bottoms. There was something downstairs...down-FUCKING-STAIRS! Oak panics and darts from her bedroom toilet to the bedroom door. Gently she lays down to crawl flatly towards the banister that overlooks the living room.
Her tree laid on the ground. The presents were scraps of plastic and paper. Oakheart briefly wondered if she had done it herself while she was blacked out till she saw little black shadows moving among the shattered remains of gifts. She slaps her hand over her mouth to keep from shrieking.
As quietly as possible, Oak crawls back to her room. It's a wonder how she missed him but there was the guy of the night snoring softly away in her bed.
Fuck.
So to break this as gently as possible, Oak clamps her hand over Mister No-Name's mouth and brings a finger to her lips in a shushing manner as his eyes snap open and bulge only briefly before she hurriedly explains.
"Uh, hi...hello. There's someone in my house. Look, I'm not sure who it is so be quiet." She's nervous. Her skin is prickly and her "spidey" sense is going batshit crazy. Dark eyes dart around the room to find some sort of a weapon as Mister Tall Dark and Handsome finally gets to his feet...still confused. Obviously it wasn't his brain size that Oakheart had been after when she noticed he was nude when he stood. She can't help but smile a little.
Focus, Oaky.
She grounds herself again as she digs through the closet in hopes of some sort of defense...her hands feel weird as they open and close as she grips but she shakes the feeling...but then her hands close on something hard and cold.
With one swift tug, a long crowbar emerges from the pile of clothes. Oak looks over her shoulder to see her companion blinking at her. "Can't be too safe." She smiles as the man looks back at her and nods with a confused, crooked smile. Oak stands prepared. She moved silently to her nightstand and pulls out a small flask from the drawer. Nimble fingers loosen the lid and she tilts the metal bottle up as she takes a long, hard swig before passing it to loverboy. They were going to need it.
It was going to be a not so silent night after all.
oakheart
manhattan x october