“Another one,” he mumbled, flopping his upper half onto the bar counter. It was just him in there now, the bartender looking over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Tom, you’re gonna be blackout drunk. Go home.” you sighed, looking over at Tom’s woozy smile and half lidded eyes.

“Another one, pretty person.” he chuckled, propping up his elbows on the table and resting his head on his hands. He was weird when drunk, it was like talking to a former husk of his usual “I hate everyone” attitude.