"Ugh. I don't know why I think I can still drink like that. I'll need another one of these, maybe two more, before I'm even passably sober. Fuck me." Theo rubbed his hands over his face, pushing his hair back and off his forehead as he looked blearily around the room. "Huh. Everyone's left? What time is it?" Neither Draco nor Blaise spoke, both too focused on their pursuits: Blaise, brooding into the fire; Draco, assessing him out of livid eyes. The urge to scream, to rage, to use his fucking fists on the man was strong, but he overcame it, choosing instead to take another long pull of the gin.