starter for @kordeliam !
since he’d first begun drinking (which was, really, just a nicer way of saying before he could remember,) liam had found that his habits had neatly organized themselves into two distinct categories - with friends, and with company. in the years leading up to what his school friends still rather melodramatically referred to his exile to edinburgh, ‘with friends’ had been the one he’d indulged in most, the friends in question being the same ones to consider his time at ashcroft some kind of cross he must bear - drinking whatever he could get his hands on for however long he could go without getting either sick or caught, no consideration for what he’d say or do when he was no longer in control, because neither would those around him be either - but ‘with company’, it was a different story. company could be anyone - his parents, more often than not, but where it really mattered was at their parties, surrounded by business partners and friends from across europe. drink for show, not to get drunk, stay sober enough to be polite and know everything he’d done once the whole thing was over with, just be presentable.
whenever he’d gone out with the friends he’d made since coming to the school, liam had found himself neatly falling back into ‘with friends’ - but now, despite the fact it was the same crowd, something about the atmosphere of the winter formal, the suits, the dresses, the champagne, the chandeliers, the dancing - suddenly, he’d been thrown back to presentable, whether he liked it or not. then again, even if he wanted to get drunk, it was seeming near impossible - even as he headed over to the champagne to get his umpteenth refill of the night, all he could tell was that the drinks were shit, but then again, what else should he have expected from a school formal, no matter how much the students here could get away with?
there was one thing he certainly hadn’t expected to see as he’d pushed through the crowd with his empty flute, however- or rather, there was one person he certainly hadn’t expected to see. “so this is what it takes to get you to drink? if you’d told me all you needed was just a big fancy party, it would’ve saved me a lot of disappointment before.” tilting his head just a fraction with a small, inquisitive smile, he glanced away for a moment to set the glass down before giving norah a proper look. “just… out of curiosity, how much have you had?”
before ashcroft, norah had never been drunk. the amount of times she’s consumed any alcohol at all she could probably count on her fingers. the few times at communion, when her father had still been around urging the family to attend. half of a local brew, at her aunt’s farm out in the country, sitting around a small fire with her mother. they had needed the trip so badly that summer. a glass of wine at her homeschool graduation. since arriving, her encounters with a lack of sobriety had, in comparison, skyrocketed. first it was hamlet and lysander’s guiding presence, her desire to be as like them as possible, so squish herself into the family she’d never had. and then octavia had taken up her case -- charity, she’d once called it, and wasn’t that ironic? -- and she’d REALLY learned how to enjoy herself.
it didn’t feel right without her. like she was stuffed into an ill fitting suit, her skin shrunk in the wash. her cheeks were cherry red ( had she always flushed like this? ) and her heels buckled when she stepped. it had been a long night, full of run ins and conversations she’d rather wish she never had. liam was the most welcome presence of all, when he appeared right in front of her, like he’d transported there to save her. she’d been laughing with a girl she didn’t know -- one who’d claimed to be in her thursday lecture, but norah didn’t typically forget a face -- but any semblance of a conversation between them had been long forgotten. “ liam! roomie of mine whom i love! ” she didn’t tell him enough, how much she appreciated his company. she makes a note to do so more often. “ oh, hush. i’ve hardly had anything, ” but the way she leans an elbow on his shoulder for balance betrays her. “ if you threw me a party like this, it would be the last party you ever attend. i feel like i’m stuck in a giant, ballroom sized corset. so stiff and proper. don’t know how you all do this regularly. ” and she doesn’t mean to say you all like there’s an us and a them, the class divide that she usually tries so hard to make invisible, but she doesn’t notice she’s said it, either. “ i’ve lost count of the drinks, honestly. too many for me to waltz without tripping myself. have you tried the champagne? it’s great! ”
