[ tonight is not a good night where his body is concerned, of that much Sakamoto is painfully aware. His head hurts in so many ways, his stomach roils like an ocean disturbed by two, two bloody drive-arounds through the town's housing district. His knee throbs a merry counterpoint against the rest of him, scuffed and bruised and painful where he'd cracked it against pavement. He doesn't feel the bloody scratches down his face, creeping to his neck, but doubtless they'll make themselves known before the night's completely out.
He wants a drink, one or two or ten, and very badly. Staggering up the drive, what he gets instead is a "wife".
It takes more effort than he thought not to sigh or groan or just turn around and walk the other way. ]
Re: action
He wants a drink, one or two or ten, and very badly. Staggering up the drive, what he gets instead is a "wife".
It takes more effort than he thought not to sigh or groan or just turn around and walk the other way. ]
On a stunner like you? Never.