“How do you mean?” Clara’s confused now. If he doesn’t like Christine why would he care what she did or who she was with?
Butch gestures at her with the bottle and snorts, “You’re covered in punch, you really gotta ask? Ain’t you supposed to be smart or something, Lab Rat?”
“So…is that why you’re here? Cause Christine poured punch on my dress?” Clara laughs and her tone turns teasing. “Was the Butch-Man worried about me?”
“Hello no,” Butch scoffs and drinks some more. His face is red but she doesn’t know if it’s from the alcohol or if he’s blushing. “I’m here cause everyone else cool enough to hang out with is off screwin’ and I sure as shit ain’t goin’ home this early. I didn’t even know you’d be here, figured you’d be home cryin’ into your pillow.”
“So why are you still here, Butch?” Clara’s asks him shortly. He could’ve left the second he saw her here and found some other hole to drink in. She tells him this.
“It’s always better to have a drinkin’ buddy,” he says it like it’s something they teach in school. Then he smirks and his eyes glint mischievously, like they always do when he’s about to say something obnoxious. “‘Sides…if I can get enough booze in you maybe Wally won’t be the only Tunnel Snake gettin’ lucky tonight. Whaddaya say, girl?”
Clara rolls her eyes and braces herself for another gulp of Vodka. It burns less this time but it still tastes terrible. She points at Butch as she speaks, “If you want to keep your Tunnel Snake, you’ll keep your hands off me.”
Butch matches her with his whiskey and smirks, undaunted by her threat. “Yeah, yeah, Red…. Drink up and lemme know if you change your mind—won’t blame you if you do. No one can resist the Butch-Man.”
Re: As Time Goes By [F!LW/Butch]
“How do you mean?” Clara’s confused now. If he doesn’t like Christine why would he care what she did or who she was with?
Butch gestures at her with the bottle and snorts, “You’re covered in punch, you really gotta ask? Ain’t you supposed to be smart or something, Lab Rat?”
“So…is that why you’re here? Cause Christine poured punch on my dress?” Clara laughs and her tone turns teasing. “Was the Butch-Man worried about me?”
“Hello no,” Butch scoffs and drinks some more. His face is red but she doesn’t know if it’s from the alcohol or if he’s blushing. “I’m here cause everyone else cool enough to hang out with is off screwin’ and I sure as shit ain’t goin’ home this early. I didn’t even know you’d be here, figured you’d be home cryin’ into your pillow.”
“So why are you still here, Butch?” Clara’s asks him shortly. He could’ve left the second he saw her here and found some other hole to drink in. She tells him this.
“It’s always better to have a drinkin’ buddy,” he says it like it’s something they teach in school. Then he smirks and his eyes glint mischievously, like they always do when he’s about to say something obnoxious. “‘Sides…if I can get enough booze in you maybe Wally won’t be the only Tunnel Snake gettin’ lucky tonight. Whaddaya say, girl?”
Clara rolls her eyes and braces herself for another gulp of Vodka. It burns less this time but it still tastes terrible. She points at Butch as she speaks, “If you want to keep your Tunnel Snake, you’ll keep your hands off me.”
Butch matches her with his whiskey and smirks, undaunted by her threat. “Yeah, yeah, Red…. Drink up and lemme know if you change your mind—won’t blame you if you do. No one can resist the Butch-Man.”
Clara snorts.