recolle | closed;

WHO: Noctis and Rosalind
WHERE: Rosalind's apartment
WHEN: 9/29 - Evening
WHAT: Drinking with mom.
WARNINGS: Will update as needed.

[ It's a Friday, so of course, Noctis is more than ready for the weekend and very much about ignoring the homework that he has for now. Papers on top of papers, projects, reading, but he's putting all of that on the back burner for his sake. He'd just gotten done working on an outline for hours, and he's ready to ignore the fact that he's a student for a hot minute.

Noctis doesn't at all miss the irony in the fact that he's visiting his professor late at night for drinking. But the relationship he has with Rosalind is special and unique, so it isn't all that odd that he's showing up at her apartment. Much less with a bag of various bottles of alcohol in one arm, a bag with their dinner in the other.

And yes, Ros, he got healthy food this time. Not for him, but at least for you. ~~Also I'm still half-asleep so you can decide what they're eating if you want~~.

Noctis knocks on the door; even if Rosalind's expecting him, he doesn't just let himself in. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Meekly... Looks... Over to her. ]

N...o, I don't.

[ That's embarrassing. Noctis has always looked up to Rosalind as a sort of mother or sister-figure She's been in his life for so long, it doesn't entirely surprise him that it slipped out.

Except... He's never had a mother, so this is awkward. ]

It was when I'd just picked you up. You were hanging on to me, and . . .

[Mmkay, Mum, sleepy and soft and warm, his face tucked into the crook of her neck and his breath reeking of cheap beer. It's just two words, but they've been on her mind for weeks now.]

In any case. I wouldn't quite classify that as damning.

[ He awkwardly chuckles, and it's forced. Noctis reaches back to rub at his neck, feeling all sorts of embarrassed and small. It's a thought he's had plenty of times, since he was little, even. He just never reflected on it. ]

Don't... Really know what having a mom is like. But, uh--

[ He purses his lips, shrugging. Noctis lets his hands rest at the table as he shifts his gaze elsewhere. ]

I don't know, I think I made that kind of connection ages ago and never thought much on it.

[ He glances back at her again. ]

Was that weird?

No. Not weird.

[But that's not quite right. It was weird, because though she looks at Noctis protectively and lovingly, she'd never once considered herself in a motherly role. She's not a maternal figure; she's never been. But . . .

It's not as if he's a child. It's not as if he's desperately seeking advice or looking for her to coddle him. It's not that he wants anything to change, but simply that he looks at her as a-- a mentor. As someone safe to speak to.]

Or rather: it was . . . unexpected. But that doesn't mean it was a bad thing.

Mm. Okay.

Good.

[ Noctis feels... Better, actually. It's a strange thing to be admitted while absolutely plastered, but he obviously called her for a reason that night. He trusts her, she's taken care of him in the past; it's only natural he feel that way. So he goes back to eating his meal, smiling softly. ]

Thanks for picking me up. That night's kinda a blur, so I'm glad I got ahold of you.

As am I. Though I suppose you could have crashed on a couch at the party, but frankly, that's a rite of passage I recommend you skip.

[That comes out easily. She says it with no real thought, and with it, a knot in her chest slowly loosens.]

Are you certain you still want to do this tonight?

I'd prefer to dodge a bullet like that.

[ He calms down a touch. It's not as embarrassing anymore, knowing that this isn't weird. ]

Yeah. It's been a long week, figured we both could use it.

All right.

[Her supper is only half-finished, but Rosalind gets to her feet, heading to her cabinet and pulling out two shot glasses. Setting them down, she raises an eyebrow.]

Now. Pick your poison and pour us our drinks, then. Four shots, and we'll see who can pour the fifth steadily.

[ Noctis has about the same amount of food finished, but he easily sets it aside once Rosalind gives the signal. He gets up briefly, grabbing the bottles he'd purchased and sitting back down. ]

Let's see...

Vodka. SoCo. Tequila.

[ The good stuff. Plenty to choose from. ]

I vote SoCo. You?

Certainly not tequila . . . all right, SoCo it is.

[She offers him her glass, feeling a reckless sort of cheer gripping her. Here they go, one way or another.]

And what shall we toast it to, hm?

[ Noctis chuckles a bit, filling her glass before filling his own. He raises it to her. ]

To...

Me not getting a stupid haircut.

Hah.

[Good luck to that. But no, that's as good a reason to drink as any, and Rosalind tips her head back, tossing back the shot with practiced ease. Southern Comfort is far from her favorite drink, but she's had it, and knows what to expect.]

[ Noctis snickers a bit as their glasses tap together, just before he throws back the drink in tandem to her. He wrinkles his nose, exhaling once the drink trickles down his throat. It burns, warranting a hoarse sort of exhale. ]

Guh.

I'll never get used to that taste.

[ He sets the glass down. ]

Your turn to pour.

And you were the one to choose the drink, too. Just imagine if I'd allowed us tequila.

[She pours steadily, though. It'll take some time for the drink to hit, after all.]

Mm . . . to a productive semester, I think.

I'll admit one thing: I know squat about alcohol. This is kinda new to me.

[ Somewhat. Hence the overdoing it at a college party. Noctis takes his shot glass and holds it up, clinking it with hers yet again. ]

To a productive semester, then.

[ Aaaand throwing back number two! It hasn't kicked in yet. That will take a minute or two. He exhales sharply, because it still burns.
But at least not as much this time. ]

Alright.

Round three.

[ He can pour this one still. ]

[SHE'S SO PROUD OF HIM . . . but wait for it to kick in.]

One of these days we'll sit down and go over them. In the meantime, avoid tequila and don't mix beer with liquor. Frankly, don't drink beer at all, it's not worth it.

I don't know about you, but I have no plans to mix again. Wasn't worth the hangover.

[ Or the embarrassment.

Welp, either way.

1. 2. 3... SHOT! ]

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