Lysander smirked at her answer, it was strange, something that was so meaningless to him could mean so much to her. Of course, they both thought that this was two different things and sadly it was Lysander who had the more accurate version. Such strange perceptions of reality drugs and alcohol could cause someone to have, which admittedly was one of the draws of the substances. Lysander liked to live in that other world, the fuzzy, happy world were everything was softened and blurred. It was a nice place and he almost envied this girl, except he knew that when she woke with a pounding head ache and fuzzy memory it probably wouldn’t seem so appealing. Especially if she ever separated the reality from the dream. Then she’d be a sorry woman.
Reluctantly he allowed her to fall asleep on his chest, but as soon as her lids slid shut he pushed her off of him. He wasn’t one to cuddle after intercourse, especially when it hadn’t been anything great and the girl was just another random girl, as most of them tended to be. Standing he brushed himself off, looking down at her. “Poor fool…” His voice was soft, not in consideration of the woman sleeping in the dirt and leaves, but just that it was dark now and like many creatures he had a tendency to be quite in the dark. And it was almost silently that he stole away, leaving her to find the morning on her own.