Re: Prodigal
"Go home, Will, you're Qiana drunk," Tress warned him, agreeing with his plan that he should go to his room. Perhaps for a lay-down? He seemed tipsy. Still, she smirked at her fellow mixed-race cutie and shook her head 'no' when he asked if the furniture was new.
"I'll see you at lunch, si?" Another wink for her musician friend, and she blew him a kiss then turned heel and almost ran. Whew! She had the vapors. There was a warm, fuzzy vibe strumming through her chest as she clacked down the hallway from Omen. That had hit the spot. She was probably good for a while. And at least things hadn't gotten carried away.