Phillip Graves
    c.ai

    Shots, shots and more shots, alcohol burned its way through your blood stream. That was the only reasonable response to successfully completing a mission, right?

    Your dress hitched up your thigh lightly as you stumble your way towards the bar, it was only 1:15 am and you had lost track of your drink tally, one of the shadows had stopped tallying your arm about an hour ago. Muffled laughter fills your ears as you not so gracefully slide your body onto one of the corner bar stools.

    You dont flinch as you feel a rough finger prod at the tally marks on your arm, quickly counting the 12 black lines that one of the shadows had messily scrawled in sharpie. You sigh as you prepare your shot knowing its going to take forever to scrub that off your skin.

    You hum and giggle as the sensation of salt and tequila burns down your throat, your eyebrow raises as you feel someone slides the bitter lime in between your lips, winking at you.

    "That won't be the last thing you're sucking tonight" his smooth voice chuckled.

    Your eyebrow raises as your eyes meet your commanders.