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𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 |𝗜𝗡𝗩𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 ————————————————
One might say it was irresponsible to go to a bar on a work night.
One might say that having you're existential crisis in a bar was a recipe for disaster.
And as some who caused disasters frequently, Sabrina would argue that the recipe for disaster was definitely not her being drunk.
But running into Rome Van Kirk on the other hand—
"Ms King!" He said. And god didn't he look like he was the devil himself. Like he was made for her to sin. Like this was death— peaceful and excruciating all at once and if only she could look at him just a moment longer and she'd be cured.
"Rome."
Her voice was a whisper. Maybe he didn't hear her but a part of her could see that Rome Van Kirk always heard her. He took a sip of his drink and Sabrina wanted to be that— the glass.
A drunk Sabrina was bold.
In all her drunkness, Rov still didn't wake up— maybe it was symbolic to how Sabrina didn't need an imaginary character she made up to conjure all of her feelings right now.
Or maybe she was just too intoxicated to think.
"What are you doing here? Isn't it past your bedtime?"
He took another sip of his drink and smiled into the glass. He was wearing his glasses tonight and that made him unimaginably irresistible.
Sabrina had always had a thing for nerds in glasses.
Dr. Spencer Reid. Harrison Ford. James Potter. Clark Kent. Peter Parker.
"We're celebrating." He pointed his glass to a group of people behind him— all of them cheering and happy, a group he wasn't a part of.
"I don't know about you but they definitely are." She took a seat next to him.
If she wasn't drunk she would see the curiosity in his eyes at her bluntness.
If she wasn't drunk she would see that this was inappropriate.
