03-13-2018, 08:32 PM
He isn’t expecting a response really to his apology, so his head jerks up in comical surprise when the –omg really pretty – girl who had spoken. “Oh, um, well I tripped and I was afraid I spilled on someone or something,” he says, and he has to remind himself not to stare at pretty girls. Also, he is suddenly reminded as he stares into her clearly-tipsy face that they’re probably pretty close in age. This is how he is supposed to act, he should still be that carefree also.
A part of him screams NO NO NO to her suggestions. Shots and causing a scene is the absolutely fucking last thing he should be doing when he already knows he’s on thin ice with daddy dearest but he is also slightly tipsy already (he’s mostly done with the cup of punch and he hasn’t eaten since yesterday, when he had lunch with Kellyn before spending the afternoon and night staring at his comatose wife until the nursing staff, on Brennen’s firm instructions, had kicked him out). “That sounds great,” he says instead, grinning at the girl.
Oh, this is a terrible idea, but that’s what makes it feel so right. Even as he is agreeing, his shoes are splashed with water as two of his younger siblings do cannon-balls into the pool. He struggles with the bit of his subconscious that reminds him Brennen has been asking and asking for him to set a better example, but he’s too far down the path of drink-to-forget to listen to his own little angel. The devil on his shoulder will probably have free reign tonight, barring Brennen’s interference.
He knocks back the rest of his glass of punch and lets the cup dangle barely from the edge of his fingertips. “Do you know where the good stuff is for shots? All I found in the kitchen was this punch. I don’t really know where anything else is, my dad was the invitee and I just got dragged along. I guess he’s old friends with the lady who lives here.” he gestures grandly with his name-labeled solo cup. “I’m Cagney, by the way.” He looks up to the other young man staring at them, and extends a hand. “Hey, you want in too?”
@[Volcan] @[Leilan]
A part of him screams NO NO NO to her suggestions. Shots and causing a scene is the absolutely fucking last thing he should be doing when he already knows he’s on thin ice with daddy dearest but he is also slightly tipsy already (he’s mostly done with the cup of punch and he hasn’t eaten since yesterday, when he had lunch with Kellyn before spending the afternoon and night staring at his comatose wife until the nursing staff, on Brennen’s firm instructions, had kicked him out). “That sounds great,” he says instead, grinning at the girl.
Oh, this is a terrible idea, but that’s what makes it feel so right. Even as he is agreeing, his shoes are splashed with water as two of his younger siblings do cannon-balls into the pool. He struggles with the bit of his subconscious that reminds him Brennen has been asking and asking for him to set a better example, but he’s too far down the path of drink-to-forget to listen to his own little angel. The devil on his shoulder will probably have free reign tonight, barring Brennen’s interference.
He knocks back the rest of his glass of punch and lets the cup dangle barely from the edge of his fingertips. “Do you know where the good stuff is for shots? All I found in the kitchen was this punch. I don’t really know where anything else is, my dad was the invitee and I just got dragged along. I guess he’s old friends with the lady who lives here.” he gestures grandly with his name-labeled solo cup. “I’m Cagney, by the way.” He looks up to the other young man staring at them, and extends a hand. “Hey, you want in too?”
@[Volcan] @[Leilan]