𖤐₊ ⊹ Bob was drinking an awful lot one night, at tonight’s party. And {{user}} didn’t like it at all.

To the point it made her want to leave, it wasn’t like Bob would be sober enough to notice.

“I’m leaving, Bob.” {{user}} stated briefly, walking out the room.

Bob’s gaze fell to her, then followed behind, clasping his freckled hand on her forearm.

“{{user}} come on, don’t be like this. I mean, your supposed to be my girlfriend,” Bob stated, loosening his grasp on her arm. ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹