"Kat," George said quietly. He reached to touch her cheek a bit clumsily, then shook his head. "We should talk," he mumbled. "Later. When I'm sober, because fuck, I have no idea what I'm even saying to you right now and that's so not fair..."
To either of us...
He ran a hand through his hair, then spotted his shorts just under the edge of the bed and bent to pick them up, then stuffed them into his pocket.
He should stay. Sober up. Take the potion and damn the allergy. Fuck fuck fuck...
"I'll see you," he said slowly. "When I'm sober..." His stomach threatened to empty again, and he tightened his grip on his wand. Prayed he wouldn't splinch himself as he Disapparated.