Post by Casey Winslow on Feb 15, 2010 16:34:51 GMT -8
There was something about alcohol that made everything seem not to matter even though the brain yelled otherwise, that it was a bad idea to give into a certain urge or feeling. And truth be told, Casey wanted nothing more than to give into the attitude of "I don't care" or "whatever happens happens." But little by the books Casey was still too potent at the moment, much to his dismay. His eyes watched as Kara made her way the short distance to her bed and laid--no, fell--onto the mattress. "You are just so funny sometimes, you know...you.." she declared, her words slurred, before she rolled onto her stomach, and he met her eyes as she propped her head on her hands. He wanted this, wanted her, and it wasn't like it hadn't been long in coming.
Downing the last of his liquor, he set the cup down and stood, taking a moment to allow the spinning room to settle. He'd denied himself enough since Evie had been stolen, and he'd be damned if he'd allow a wife he'd never truly be able to have again to hold him back. For all intents and purposes, his Evie was dead. All that existed was the version of Evie Trevor had sculpted. All he could do for that Evie who was obviously dealing with feelings of doubt was free her, but that would be for a night where a beautiful woman was not before him, looking that way, looking at him that way. It was for a sober night. It was for a night alone where there was nothing else to do and all plans were settled.
That determined, the former Ravenclaw cast aside any thought but those of what he wanted to do here and now with Kara and made his way over, beginning to sit but instead falling and letting himself fall backwards once seated. Settled, he rolled to his side and tried to scoot closer as gracefully as was possible for him at the moment.