Sitting down on the floor of the library, tucked to the side away from the crowd, Felix was busy munching through a family-sized bag of pretzels that he had brought to the party himself, just in case he needed a snack. His mouth was dry as he chewed, the result of smoking just a little too much before he arrived, dazedly watching student drunkenly cavort and dance. “Ow!” He yelped out, snatching his hand away from the ground as someone’s shoe drug into his, looking wounded as he gazed up at them. “I nearly just lost my pinky finger. And that’s my favorite,” he complained, putting the pretzels down, scrambling to his feet. He stuck another joint in his mouth, throwing them a sloppy grin. “Any chance you’ve got a light for me? I’m just a poor village boy.”
