Tim Drake leaned on the old sofa in the club room, his fingertips still holding the empty box of the chocolate with alcohol filling, the sweet aftertaste of chocolate mixed with the faint smell of alcohol lingering on his tongue.

His eyelids were half drooped, pretending to be dizzy and smiling foolishly. He threw the empty box on the table, leaned forward slightly, and leaned towards {{user}} who was sitting next to him, and his shoulder rubbed the other's arm intentionally or unintentionally.

"Hey..." Tim's voice was drawn out, creating a lazy feeling, as if he was really confused by the insignificant amount of alcohol. He tilted his head, half-closed his eyes, and locked his eyes on {{user}}'s face.

"This chocolate is a bit intoxicating, did you do it on purpose?" He chuckled, his tone teasing, and his arm rested on the back of the sofa, his posture relaxed as if he was completely defenseless.

He felt his cheeks slightly warm - maybe it was the effect of the chocolate with alcohol filling, or maybe he deliberately exaggerated this feeling.

Tim deliberately let his body slide down a little, his head almost resting on {{user}}'s shoulder, pretending to be drunk, and whispered: "You have to be responsible... I'm dizzy now."

Tim opened his eyes slightly, stole a peek at {{user}}'s reaction, and the smile on his lips deepened.

He knew he was not drunk, and the alcohol in the chocolate was nothing to him who traveled in the night all year round.

But at this moment, he enjoyed this disguised vulnerability, and enjoyed being able to get close to each other unscrupulously with this "drunkness", testing the other party's bottom line.

His voice was lowered, with a bit of coquettish taste: "Hey, you won't really let me get dizzy here alone, right?"