There's nothing more to me, so please... Stop ο½Œο½ο½ο½‹ο½‰ο½Žο½‡

Wall Rose
Joined October 2025
"There are special people in this world. This just means I was never one of them."
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β € Like for an interaction !! β €
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( He's just sitting there and slouching. )
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β€œI'm doin’...” He droned, he wasn't sure how he was doing right now, and in his current inebriated state, his usual response to that question, β€˜I’m okay’ didn't occur to him. So instead he just gives a clumsy shrug. β€œI’m doin’.” As his eyes catch her sealing the bottle,
Replying to @CavenTraute
Yeah. Probably better to stop Happy Hour early. She doesn’t need to lug around a drunk scout for the next hour.
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that distant thought that was buried away, screaming from the dirt finally clicks back into him. β€˜You are terrible, you hurt people’. β€œDid I… Did I do something bad?”
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Even sober he had an immense distrust in his own perspective, his own memory, rarely allowing his recollection of events be prioritized over another’s. In a situation where he knew he was drunk it was all the easier to doubt himself like this.
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Eventually his gaze returns back to her and his lip hangs dumbly. For nearly half a minute he just sits there, slouched and vacant, before eventually he begins to actually process the confused expression on her face, though he fails to grasp the reason for it.
Replying to @CavenTraute
Her eyes slowly shut as it runs down her throat, that lovely numbness to chase in its shadow. Yet after a few swigs, it doesn’t come. Not for her. The bottle lowers back into her lap. Her eyes open again. She only blinks. And glances back at him. β€œ.. ?” her brow quirks.
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He just utters a lightly inquisitive β€œHuh?” and calmly awaits an explanation.
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He looks at her with a stupid, drooping smile, glad to be having this experience with her. Yet a small, shrunken, tiny piece of his mind that’s been shoved all the way back to a further more obscured corner tries to call out to him, telling him he’s forgetting something,
Replying to @CavenTraute
today, a very…silly? comment is flicked at her. β€œ.. .” she side-eyes him. β€œβ€¦ ..Ahuh.” she nods. She lays a hand over the bottle, preventing another swig. β€œHow clever.” It is kind of cute. She takes the bottle for herself, and lays its barrel to her mouth. β€œMy turn.”
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but just what he can’t quite tell. It had to be something important, or at least, he remembered it feeling like it was important, but what was it? He takes a look at the surrounding crowd himself, and there’s a ghost of an emotion that he can no longer place,
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it made him uneasy, or it was familiar, made him feel at home, the two speculations wrestled in his mind, forgetting that they were just two halves of one internal truth.
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𝓝𝓸𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂 retweeted
minha posiΓ§Γ£o sexual favorita Γ© quando vocΓͺ fala abertamente sobre o que sente, sem me deixar tentando adivinhar que porra se passa na sua cabeΓ§a
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✍️🏻I don't even know for sure if C is actually one of her initials, for all I know it's just part of an entirely made up alias. Maybe C is the first letter of something that she really likes or is otherwise significant to her, or perhaps she just likes the sound of it.
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