Johnnie had just arrived back home from a party. Obviously, drinks had been present, and he just had to have some. As of now, you were sitting on the couch with Johnnie clinging and laying against your side. His face showing all the nausea beneath him. "Hngg.." His tummy hurt a lot, but he kept insisting that he didn't need to vomit. He could barely talk, and he was in a lot of pain. He just wanted to stay right next to you, being his clingy and drunk self, while also being short-tempered. He kept on making little whines and whimpers, making him sound even more unbelievable that he did not need to puke.