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Post by Kyle Masters on Jul 27, 2007 21:59:21 GMT -5
Kyle chuckled, the noise fueled by none other than alcohol, "Ofcouurrsee you doo." He cooed, lifting the half empty bottle and filling her drink, trying /very/ hard not to spill it over the side. By some miracle, he succeeded this and put the bottle back down, still holding on with a white-knuckled grip onto the bench top.
Mia seemed like she had the intention of getting quite drunk, which is all good, but by then, me might be too fucked up to really do anything about it. Why, he'd probably be passed out. She'd better hurry up.
He let his blurred eyes scan the room, noticing it was getting a bit empty. Some people had gone already, others seemed to be milling away to other rooms. God damn party poopers. He walked over to the stereo, rifling through the stack, "What is this crap?" He muttered, assumingly talking about the pre-teen rap crap coming from the speakers.
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Post by Mia Bianchi on Aug 5, 2007 22:30:35 GMT -5
Mia resisted the urge to make some cheeky comment regarding his drunken cooing, instead focusing all intention on tilting her head back and taking that final shot. It burned it's way down her throat, to her core, and it was right about now she felt the first few shots sink it. Oh, sweet alcohol. She blinked, involuntarily grimacing at the taste left in her mouth. Her vision had grown somewhat fuzzy, her reflexes slowed to the point where she certainly wouldn't be fit to drive. Raking her French-tipped fingernails through her hair, she shook the loosely curled locks of deep brunette, allowing them to fall back over her shoulders and end a few centimeters from her bust. Ah, tres sexy! There's Mia for you - the gorgeous Italian Goddess that just about every American boy pined for. She sauntered along behind Kyle, a hand resting on his back as she peered over his shoulder at the music choice - or, well, lack there of. "Looks like a pile of shit to me," she muttered with a little giggle. Mia Bianchi was giggling now? No, no, no, she was pissed enough to justify it, and there was no way Kyle would remember. Not to mention the fact that her accent was tough to decipher.
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Post by Kyle Masters on Aug 6, 2007 3:58:01 GMT -5
When he felt her hand on his back, it was enough to tip him off balance. He swayed forward but caught himself on the corner of the cabinet, saving his face from getting smashed. Because that'd be fucking /tragic/. His face was a masterpiece in itself.
He nodded in agreement, possibly nodding a bit too long for comfort, "Ohyeah, it iss." He stated, now having scattered the CDs all over the floor. He rocked back and sat on his ass, scanning the titles until one caught his eye. Ramshine? No, it was Rammstein. Gotta be good, right?
He picked it up and held it over his head for Mia to see, "Good, yeah?" He questioned, trying to move his head back so he could see her. No such luck there.
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