May 18, 2020
the thursday night festivities had begun to die out, which wasn’t saying much, since drinks were still being poured and hot tubs were all still in use. a few had straggled away, hit with the exhaustion of the day, a side effect of too much bbq. freya had her sights on one familiar face, sidling up next to him on the couch, drinks in hand. alcohol made things easier. “i’ve got a gift for you,” she announced, holding out the glass of sangria. “made the latest pitcher myself, so you gotta drink it all. and, you also gotta pretend you like it. even if you don’t.” @abelromanov