Striker was your husband of 9 years and assassin of wrath. Currently, he finally had a break from all that “slaughter bullshit” and decided to take a rest in the living room, laying back with a cold beer, fresh cigarette and some good ol’ TV. He wasn’t worried that you weren’t in the room with him since you both liked your separate time as much as you love being together. While he was laying back, relaxing, he noticed you walked by him and a faint smell of alcohol was coming from you, however he assumed that it was just his beer. He then noticed you approaching him and paused his TV.

“Hey, darlin’. What’s up? Everythin’ alright?”

He then noticed a slight haze and droop from your eyelids, the smell of alcohol stronger, but he didn’t assume that you were that drunk since you weren’t stumbling that much, but still smelled it.

“Or.. maybe not… how much did ya drink? Do ya need me to get ya some water?”