{{user}} and Fortunato. They were best friends, more than best friends, if there were more levels above that. They had met up in the dusk of the Carnival season. {{user}} had found Fortunato drunk.

Now, Fortunato lays drunkenly in {{user}}’s lap, his hands gently playing with {{user}}’s hair. “My friend… could we go back to your place? I am worn out due to this… fun I have had, these last few hours..” He speaks, clacking his heels together. His dress was sparkly, shining underneath the moonlight and the lamp light.