"What is it that you’re complaining about? I feel rather acceptable, all things considered," Shadow says, craning his neck to look at where Rouge is hidden on the lounge under a blanket.
It’s 11 AM, and the drapes are still drawn. Rouge will probably break his neck or die trying if he tries to open them, but it’s an amusing thought nonetheless.
"No," she says, her voice a little rough. "No. Not this morning. Not from someone who can’t hold their liquor. Shut up. Now. Forever."
Shadow raises his eyebrows. “Hold their liquor? I think you will find that I am not the one nursing - and I quote - ‘a gargantuan fucking hangover.’”
"Well," Rouge says sweetly, "I’m not the one who made a fool of myself on Tumblr, am I. Shadow.” It’s a statement, not a question.
"… I beg your pardon?" Was that dread, building in his chest? It certainly felt like it.
He can almost hear the smirk singing out to him from beneath the blanket. “Why don’t you see for yourself?” she continues in that overtly-saccharine voice.
She doesn’t even mind his howl of rage and confusion Shadow gives when he opens the laptop screen to see the evidence of last night as much as she normally would, given the pounding in her head.
He may be The Ultimate Lifeform, and his metabolism may make short work of threatening hangovers, but damned if he isn’t a potential victim of the dangerous effects of drunk-posting like the rest of us.
Rouge rolls over to face the back of the lounge, and falls asleep with the smirk stilll in-place.