02-18-2010, 08:17 PM
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SHITPOST and yes, just wine sounds way more reasonable. i'd be just wrong for him to whip out a baggy of MJ as well. 300+
Perhaps it was shallow of him, or something like it, but he felt important in this moment. He felt important, strong, and dependable, things he never would have felt if not for her. He had proven that he could be an important and dependable boy to her, and he knew for certain that she considered him both things. It didn't matter much what others thought; his main concern was what she thought, how she saw him. And her slight body against his taller, stronger one helped him feel pretty good too, admittedly. Kansas was proud, but he wasn't vain; the pride he felt came from his heart and hers, and such sacred things shouldn't be exploited. Her presence in his life kept him confident enough to function, but at the same time, it prevented him from becoming consumed by selfishness, greed and vanity. Loving her left no possibility of that.
Kansas definitely didn't like being completely inebriated. On that night with Naniko and Lucifer, he'd been fucked up beyond all recognition, the stupidest he'd ever seen himself or any other individual, for that matter. He never wished to behave like that again; which was why he'd watched himself carefully both times he'd smoked pot to ensure that his mind remained intact. And it was also why he hadn't brought much wine. He couldn't imagine acting like an idiot in front of Savina. Kansas was happy to hear the hesitation in her voice; it meant she was as careful as he was. He wouldn't have liked it if she'd lost herself to the idea of getting messed up as soon as he'd mentioned it.
He pulled out the bottle of wine. "This," he said, presenting it comically. "I think it should be pretty good," when honestly, he didn't know the first thing about wine. The label was neat and attractive, and the wine was well-aged: these were his only indicators. He reached in his bag for two glasses he'd wrapped carefully in some paper as well as his sweater. They were chipped and old, but they sparkled in the firelight. He blushed, cursing his pale fur as he felt his face warm. "I wanted to... to make this r-romantic for you. But again, we don't have to." He smiled a little, trying to illustrate his indifference one way or the other. Whatever she decided he would be completely fine with.
Perhaps it was shallow of him, or something like it, but he felt important in this moment. He felt important, strong, and dependable, things he never would have felt if not for her. He had proven that he could be an important and dependable boy to her, and he knew for certain that she considered him both things. It didn't matter much what others thought; his main concern was what she thought, how she saw him. And her slight body against his taller, stronger one helped him feel pretty good too, admittedly. Kansas was proud, but he wasn't vain; the pride he felt came from his heart and hers, and such sacred things shouldn't be exploited. Her presence in his life kept him confident enough to function, but at the same time, it prevented him from becoming consumed by selfishness, greed and vanity. Loving her left no possibility of that.
Kansas definitely didn't like being completely inebriated. On that night with Naniko and Lucifer, he'd been fucked up beyond all recognition, the stupidest he'd ever seen himself or any other individual, for that matter. He never wished to behave like that again; which was why he'd watched himself carefully both times he'd smoked pot to ensure that his mind remained intact. And it was also why he hadn't brought much wine. He couldn't imagine acting like an idiot in front of Savina. Kansas was happy to hear the hesitation in her voice; it meant she was as careful as he was. He wouldn't have liked it if she'd lost herself to the idea of getting messed up as soon as he'd mentioned it.
He pulled out the bottle of wine. "This," he said, presenting it comically. "I think it should be pretty good," when honestly, he didn't know the first thing about wine. The label was neat and attractive, and the wine was well-aged: these were his only indicators. He reached in his bag for two glasses he'd wrapped carefully in some paper as well as his sweater. They were chipped and old, but they sparkled in the firelight. He blushed, cursing his pale fur as he felt his face warm. "I wanted to... to make this r-romantic for you. But again, we don't have to." He smiled a little, trying to illustrate his indifference one way or the other. Whatever she decided he would be completely fine with.