Uhm. This didn't turn out at all the way it was supposed to. There was going to be happy!drunk!Stephen, possibly with a fond "Stephen, joy, I think you are drunk!" from Jack, and. Well. The happiness? Kind of didn't happen. Which will not surprise Sea and Rahmi, they know that everything I touch turns into angst. Let's just consider this one
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Oh, my poor Stephen. I ache for you.
What occupies his mind tonight is the image of shattered glass, of his precious liquid sleep seeping into the wooden boards of the floor.
D:
*runs off to pimp* I hope you realise I'll be poking you more often now?
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