#hazel01

It took a lot to get a fey drunk, even more for them to get properly hungover. Yet somehow, Nickel always found a way to persevere. Head pounding, eyes sensitive to light, Nick moved through the streets of Manhattan slowly, Starbucks clutched in his hand like a lifeline. All he wanted was to curl up in his bed and sleep the hangover away. However, only too late did his phone remind him of a meeting with the Senator that morning, scheduled for the bright and early time (for Nick) of 10am. And now, this painfully bright and early morning, with only designer sunglasses as a shield, Nick made his way to the Senator's office.

He turned the corner of the block, taking a sip of his coffee and nearly avoiding spilling it over himself. A small woman nearly wiped him out, her arms full of bags. A scything remark on his tongue, it was only recognition that stilled his words. "Hazel..." he said, head foggy, struggling to find words to say, any words to say. Fuck, this meeting was going to suck ass. "... You should watch where you're going," he said, not unkindly, but not exactly filled with warmth. How she would expect him.