But he's lingering, and lingering means he wants something and isn't sure how to say it. Finral would have otherwise tried and failed to drag him up by his jacket already and move him to bed, or simply left him and gone to bed himself. The sofa dips slightly by his feet and he feels Finral itching to say something as he sits. Think I'm just gonna stay here till the world stops spinning," he jokes and chuckles at his hilarious self, and he hears the softest huff of laughter from the other. "Hm." "Are you going to bed?" Yami shifts onto his back, throws an arm over his eyes even when there only light in the apartment is from the moon coming through the open living room curtains. He trusts Finral to look after him when he's in this kind of state. He knows they'll be lined up by the door ready for the next morning. There's some shuffling of boots before gentle padding of footsteps, and his own boots are pulled off his feet without asking. There's movement somewhere behind him, the light scrape of metal against wooden flooring as the can is picked up and hopefully moved to a better place. "I swear you do it just to annoy me," he mutters before stumbling forward and crashing face-first on the sofa in a drunken heap, still conscious but just barely. At least there are no brushes to be stood on and snapped this time. There's no paint on the floor, luckily, as the lid has been attached to it. The young student artist scratches the back of his neck, shutting the door behind them both. Brunet hair soft as cotton and pretty purple eyes like an amethyst crystal. He turns around to accuse the boy with a grumble, "Finral." Finral - a skinny little thing being dwarfed in that green button-down and jacket of his. He recovered slower than he would've liked, only to then immediately trip over a can of paint lying innocently beside the patchwork sofa. "Yami." "Got it." Yami finally stumbles through the front door of the run-down apartment, the sudden jolting of the door mixed with the few too many pints at the bar throwing off his balance. Yami wanted to get them inside asap so he could take a leak and crash into bed already. It had been already cold on their walk home and now standing still, shivering in the biting air of the Clover City night. Now it's war." He glares at the object in question standing between them and warmth. "I've given this thing enough chances to cooperate gently. "Yami, you've got- you got to be gentle with it," stutters the brunet behind him on the step. "Damn thing," groans Yami in heavy frustration.
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