thecapitol | Tonight is bottoms up

Who| Bro and You
What| Recovering, post arena, multiple prompts in the comments
Where| The kitchens, D6 Suites, D9 Suites (Closed to Dave)
When| During the last week of the arena
Warnings/Notes| N/A

[The kitchens]

That had been an experience, and that was all there really was to say on the matter. No, actually. The experience had been pretty fucked up, even for his standards. He wasn't about to get all boohoo-y about it, but it also wasn't the kind of shit that just left you the second it was over, either. He'd killed a lot of people, so it felt like there was a lot of blood on his hands. Did it make him feel guilty? Nah.

Did he need a good, strong drink? Yeah, he did.

It was one of those moods where he wanted to have a few drinks and settle down and play a fucking video game or something. Basically, he wanted to couch potato for a few days and not do a damn thing. He could be pissed off at the Capitol later, nobody had time for that shit. It seemed like a lot had happened since he'd been there during the family thing, but man he wasn't in the mood to deal with it. His potatoes were already sprouting.

He found himself in the kitchen eventually, and damn if he wasn't pretty impressed by it. The thing was bigger than their apartment back home, for fuck's sake. His stomach grumbled at all of the junk food he'd be able to bury himself in- but first, that drink.

It didn't take him long to find something pretty damn strong, and as soon as he did he was tipping it back and taking it swig.

"Hell yeah, now it's a fuckin' party," he said, before swaggering off to see what sort of junk food he could find.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Before she can even realize what's happening, Anna's got hot, melted chocolate dripping from her face. She reels, drunkenly shaking her head. "Oh no you did not," she grits, reached her hand in and flinging some of the chocolate back at him rather playfully. She doesn't even care that they're probably going to be kicked out.

"Hell yeah I did."

And they do eventually get kicked out, as the fight escalates and chocolate gets everywhere. By the time they're shoved out of the restaurant, Bro's forgotten all about the awkward and he's just really damn amused- not that it shows on his face or anything. "Can you even fuckin' walk?" he asks, placing a hand on Anna's shoulder as she stumbled into him.

He figures he already knows the answer.

By the time they're escorted out of the restaurant, Anna is positively covered in chocolate, breathless and laughing and extremely drunk. She can't even be mad that he just got them kicked out and probably banned from a restaurant. Truth be told, she's having way too much fun. She sways on her feet.

"What? No, I can totally w-ooah!" She nearly faceplants trying to walk a demonstrative straight line.

Bro is quick as can be to catch her from falling, really not wanting Anna to lose her face on the concrete. That would not be fun in the least, for her or for him to witness. "Easy now," he says, rolling his eyes just a little. "Bullshit you can walk."

Without even thinking about it, he's moving to scoop her up bridal style, because there's no way he's gonna put in the effort trying to lead her back to tribute tower. "God, Princess, way to drink too much." As if it's not his fault.

Anna giggles, looking sheepish, but next minute her whole world is thrown off-balance as Bro scoops her up like she's nothing at all. Automatically, she loops her arms around his neck, snuggling up into his chest like this is totally normal for them.

"I knowwww," she moans. "'S all you're fault, though. You're the worst."

To Bro, lifting her really is nothing. It's like picking up a plastic bag full of cotton candy and feathers. It's a little alarming how quick she snuggles up to his chest, but beyond a light tinge to his cheeks, he doesn't react as he begins making his way back to the tribute center.

"Am I?" he asks, raising his eyebrows. "You're the one who kept chugging. And who kept throwing the chocolate, I only flicked a little. You took it to the next level. You take everything to the next level, Princess." And that's what he finds endearing about her, honestly. "You ain't like any royalty I ever expected to encounter, y'know."

She's not self-conscious at all about cozying right up to him. After all, she trusts him, or at least she thinks she does. Plus she's incredibly drunk. That helps, too.

Anna slugs him weakly in one of his muscly pecs. "No, no, no, that was all your fault," she insists, before giving him her most endearing smile with wide blue eyes. "I'll take that as a compliment. I'd hate to be boring!"

"Ow," he deadpans, completely unimpressed by her little punch. Honestly, it just makes him think she's fucking adorable. "I'm hearing a lot of blame shifting and it's fuckin' rude." He lets out a chuckle though. "Listen, I don't think you ever have to worry about being boring, trust me." And he really means that. "Anyway, shut up, you're drunk. Drunk people aren't supposed to talk, they say shit they regret."

"It's not shhhifting anywhere," she slurs matter-of-factly, but lets it drop, mostly because he's telling her to shut up.

"I will not!" She exclaims, kicking her legs weakly. "What would I possibly say that I'd regret later on? It's not like I'm gonna, gonna tell you I think you're cute, or anything."

And here is a prime example of what drunk people tend to regret saying the next day, if they even remember. It isn't making it any easier for him on the whole "She's cute, would bang" thing. But there's no way he's gonna make a move on her while she's shitfaced.

"Am I?" he asks, "Well good for me. I've always wanted to be cute. You regretting anything yet, princess?"

"Nnnope!" She reaches out and boops him on the nose. "Not one bit! I don't mmmlive my life with regret. Not me!" She lolls her head back, her braids streaming straight down as he walks, playing dead.

Okay, she might regret that later on. As long as he doesn't bring it up, she'll be fine.

Yeah. This conversation? Not ever gonna be brought up again. Honestly, he feels a little regret, and he isn't even the one drinking. "Jesus, princess..." The way she goes ragdoll in his arms as she plays dead makes it a little harder to carry her, but he just shakes his head. "Oh look, we're here."

They're coming into the tribute tower now, and he heads towards the elevators immediately. "What district are you again?" He already knows, but a little drunken quiz never hurts.

Anna perks right back up again when Bro announces their arrival, head lolling against his chest. God, she's tired all of a sudden. His question makes her head swim.

"Um. Four---teen. Fourteenteen." No, that's not right. She hiccups. "Wait, wait, um--four. Mm, that's it."

"Fourteenteen? God, that's so many teens," he says, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button for four. "You're so fucking drunk right now, I hope you realize that. Consider this a life lesson, when a strange guy offers you alcohol, don't take it."

The elevator goes ding as they make it to the fourth floor. "Unless it's me, because this has been a wild ride." He doesn't even consider how they look disgusting covered in chocolate walking through the tribute tower. People are probably staring. He makes it to her room a moment later, opening it so he can step in. "We should do this again sometime."

Except no that's probably a bad idea. The hangover is likely to kill her. He sets her gently on the bed, before turning towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna get you some water, sit tight." Because he's not completely heartless.

Anna only mumbles incoherently by way of answer. God, she's so sleepy right now--she could sleep for about a zillion years, or she feels like it anyway. So her head merely lolls as he carries her toward her room, completely unaware of anyone staring--or of the fact that she's covered in chocolate.

When Bro lays her down on her bed, the princess immediately sprawls out comfortably. "Mmm'alright." She'll probably be asleep by the time he gets back.

Of course she's asleep when he returns, he's almost completely unsurprised by this. But it's probably for the best, because at least now they avoid more awkward conversations. He stares down at her for a long moment, going through the entire night in his head, before letting out a small laugh. What a night. That's all he can say.

He sets the water down and, after making sure she's in a position so as not to choke on any potential vomit, he heads out. He'll return only once, to leave a bottle of headache pills next to the cup of water- she'll need it, the hangover is going to be a huge bitch.

Then, he just goes back to his room and takes a really, really long shower.

Tonight is bottoms up

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