It would be painfully obvious to anyone who walked into Seventh Heaven right now that the three of you have had way too much to drink.

The bar was supposed to close for business a good few hours ago, but either none of you even noticed, or you are just too wasted to care. (Probably the latter.)

Aerith is resting her head on the sticky bartop, a lazy but warm smile stretched across her face as she slowly blinks up at you. She’s evidently quite a lightweight; it only took a few drinks before she began to feel all fuzzy inside.

Tifa, however, is busy pouring another three colorful shot glasses, a wide grin pulling at her lips as she waves them in the air. “More shots! Hey— Aerith, you better not be falling asleep on us already.”

Aerith only manages to release a tipsy little giggle in response.