#(&harry)

Between the journey of the bar to the kitchen she had quenched her thirst thanks to the pure vodka, each drop tickling her senses. Yet, she continued to sing in the storm; she always danced and sung in the storm of life. While in the kitchen she spun lightly on her knee length boots, one hand gripping a discarded yet filled bottle of whiskey while the other was dragged across the kitchen appliances. The rain continued to pat itself against the window, the thunder only louder and the lightening was brighter, but that didn't startle her and neither did the cough that came from whomever entered the kitchen. Playfully drunk, Jamie continued to spin and slowly walk around the kitchen until she had found the source that chuckled at her movement. Taking another swing of her bottle her hand found his chest - the scent of his clone and the masculine chuckle easily gave away his gender. "Creeping is a sin" she muttered taking another swing, her sense completely begone from her. "Now you can fuck off to wherever you came from or else you can drink and dance in the storm".