Alastor was walking to his room at around 3 in the morning, awake for some reason. He’d been hanging out with Rosie earlier that day, and had gotten a little tipsy so he couldn’t go back to the hotel until he was sober again.

Alastor was walking silently, but gasped when he felt two hands around his waist. He spun around to see a very drunk Angel Dust.

“Damn, how’d ya get such a snatched waist?”

He asked, his words completely slurred.