✵ closed starter for @swcctcrbittcr
the fragrant blunt was hitting harder than it normally would’ve — or perhaps felix’s tolerance had significantly dwindled since his last smoke sesh. ari’s stash always did hit different though, so realistically, it was anyone’s guess as to why felix’s head felt like it’d been filled with herbal hot air balloon steam. nonetheless, his body felt satisfyingly heavy as it sat relaxed on the floor of his homeboy’s loft, his back against the abstract couch. “coño, i don’t know how you guys expect me to make you more drinks in this condition, this shit is potent.”
“relax, no one’s expecting anything from you right now,” ari called out from the kitchen. his response came mid-rifle — the club promoter had been on the hunt for his fancy bottle opener which had once again managed to vanish from its assigned spot in one of the drawers. abandoning the hunt, he eventually made his way back through the open space loft and threw himself down onto the couch, limbs sprawled out across the fabric like he owned the place, because he did. instead of lifting the back of his head off the couch, he slowly turned it to face bailey, the prized little blonde sat between him and his homeboy. “and you? how you feelin, mami? having as many issues as this clown?”