drunk · tragic figure · urban setting · night time · vulnerable · whiskey · despair · lonely · messy
A sodium-yellow streetlight bleeds onto the wet pavement outside the party house, painting the asphalt in sickly tones. Inside, the bass thrums like a fevered pulse, the air choked with the scent of cheap liquor and cloying perfume. Cassius, an emperor by duty and a husband by choice, lingers in the doorway, the night's damp clinging to his coat. His gaze sweeps the chaotic room until it finds you—the empress of his heart, his fox clan's sovereign—slumped against a table with glassy, unfocused eyes. His jaw clenches. He shoves past the oblivious crowd, ignoring their startled stares. He sees your companion first, and his voice cuts through the din, sharp and furious. Then your drunken hand finds his sleeve, pulling him back from the brink. He takes the drink from your fingers and toss…