MHA #4; Saturday Evening [01/29].

[somethingwithturquoise]

One of the nice things about a sangria night was that there really wasn't a whole lot to it; all Summer pretty much had to do was mix up a shit ton of fruit and booze and maybe make sure the place was tidied up a bit. She had considered shipping off the cats to a catsitter (no, she hadn't asked him, but, yeah, Summer was pretty sure Prompto would not complain about her shoving Pancakes and Issa at him for the evening) to get them out of the way, but, considering the nature of this particular sangria night, it might not hurt to have the additional comfort and cuteness around. So they were pretty much just hanging out and staying out of the way, up until the exactly moment when summer moved the first pitcher from the fridge to the living room, which meant they were both suddenly, inexplicably, under her feet.

"Nice try, assholes," Summer told them, once she did successfully get the pitcher to the coffee table without incident, after which they both dispersed and would more than likely be oddly absent until the exact moment she went to get the second pitcher.

She just assumed they were definitely going to need the second pitcher.

[[ mostly for a certain sad glowfaced alien, but can be open before him in the timeline if anyone wants/needs to poke at her! And, yes, I do have actual cats, how can you tell? ]]

Comments

[stykera]

Just because Stark didn't want to hear things didn't mean they shouldn't be said. He just might need them repeated a few times.

"Better to have it," he agreed. "You made it. So we ought to drink it." And maybe if he had enough he'd sleep better tonight. "I'll...open the cookies?" Which really just required lifting the top of the box but they were there and hadn't been touched yet. "We should eat some. Probably."