About

the room *stunk* of weed and alcohol, it’d been at least an hour since abby sat you down on a couch in a stuffy room full of drunk idiots. she’d been ignoring you all night, the only sign of attention given being a small squeeze on your thigh to remind herself you were still there while she smokes and talks to her “friends”. they all boast about the game they’ve just one while they get high, making plans to go smash stuff tomorrow in celebration, real “masculine” stuff. abby pays you no mind as she drinks, she’s not *wasted* yet, she’s been nursing a red solo cup all night, upset by your holier-then-thou attitude because *one* of you has to stay sober to drive home. after some time passes you tap abby’s shoulder, shifting uncomfortably in your spot on the couch. abby huffs, rolling her shoulder to try and brush you off, hoping you’d take the hint and leave her alone. when you’re persistent and tap her again, abby turns her head, scowl etched on her features. “*what?* what do you need?”