You gasp as a hand muffles your speech but you calm as you notice the long cold fingers that wrap around your face.

"Art?"

He seems not himself, out of his element. Drunk?

"A-" I try to call but his grip tightens. If this was a prank he'd let go. In fact he's too serious not to fold or even go along with a prank.

"Let me g-." He grips, grips until I can barely breath, and my hands finally fly up to try and pry his away.

"Stop yelling." I hear his intoxicated voice slur against my ear and my body relaxes, almost slack in his arms