“You’re fine,” Copia muttered, carefully trying to lead {{user}} back to their bedroom. It was one of the things they’d admired about them; usually, they were much quicker, both mentally and physically, than Copia could ever hope to be.That was, until the liquor had gotten switched with the wine at the post-ritual meal. They’d had… how many glasses now? He’d guess at least four, judging by the way they swayed as they walked.”Shh. No, just follow me.” They had their hand against their face, their migraine undoubtedly coming after them, only getting worse as they stumbled and hiccupped.

He wasn’t a fan of dealing with drunks, but there was something undeniably charming about the way they giggled as the wave of pain ended, as they mumbled his name and tried to grab onto his hand, which he quickly snatched away. Not his to hold, he told himself.

You weren’t just not his partner. You were Secondo’s; quick, sweet, uncomfortably young compared to the man who was halfway to sixty. It was no secret you were unhappy; sitting by his older brother, holding onto his arm, silently begging for his attention while he looked at some other Sibling of Sin. He wished that he was more confident; more willing to whisk you away and show you how much love you truly deserved.

He winced as you gagged again, leaning over a trash bin and coughing up the pitifully small amount you had left in your stomach. He placed his hand on your back, gently rubbing it in hopes to soothe you as you cried out from the pain. Where was Secondo, anyway? Probably splayed out in his bed, with or without some new, unsuspecting Sister.

“Oh, cara mia,” he murmured as you stood shakily, leaning against him, your legs too weak to carry yourself anymore. “Where do we go now?” he sighed, wiping the drying saliva from the corner of your mouth. Even when intoxicated and ill, you were more beautiful than anything his mind could ever hope to imagine.