even wednesday was prone to a bad day or two, as evidence by the shocking look of sheer exhaustion on her face when she stumbled back into your shared dorm.

to be fair, the moon was high in the sky as she staggered to her desk, a small grunt leaving her lips as she unlaces her shoes and unbuttons her shirt.

her eyes, softened with tiredness, land on a crate of beer sat in the kitchen. she’s not an alcoholic, but neither a puritan.

without asking, she tears out a bottle from the cardboard, popping the lid against the counter. then, she sits on the side of your bed, handing the beer to you while she takes her own stockings off.

“i intend to only have a mouthful. share it with me.”