@doomdays: i guess human nature hasn’t changed. (hope + micah)
“yeah, not even the end of the fucking world will stop college parties.” he holds his cup sullenly, settling into a quiet misery despite the liquor being only half-drained. it typically takes two rounds for micah to spiral, marred by a self-inflected sorrow (a melancholic drunk, just as his brother had been), and he isn't so wasted that he can't acknowledge that — but he's trying to forget his feelings. just like everyone else here, he assumes, if they're willing to drink this homemade shit.
so he tells himself it's the quality that has him embittered, and he takes another small sip, as if it'll help, grimacing as it goes down. “—ugh.” he cringes. “you'd think they'd have better alcohol.” finally, micah looks up, brows knitting together when his gaze focuses on hope. “oh. you make this, don't you. sorry.”