That was basically all Reid could think as he walked along beside Heather. Even with five drinks in him (goddamn it, Carmen), he knew this was a bad idea and he was going to end up miserable tomorrow.
No reason to let that get him down now, though.
“Here. You know how to read music, right?” Reid offered her a page he had written the traditional Wassailing song on after his third drink. The alcohol was keeping him feeling warm (despite dropping his core temperature), so the calf-high snow didn’t even bother him as they walked closer to Saffron.
“Uh, sorta?” She took the music from him, cocking her head to read it a little better. “Dude, your handwriting kinda sucks.”
“That’s what happens when you’re drunk, Heather. But why would I need to tell you?”
She gave him a sheepish smile. She absolutely hadn’t been drinking her weight in alcohol back at the farm, what are you talking about? (Damn it, Albert, why did you let them leave.)
“So we’re hitting up the houses and then the center?”
“They’re likely not going to know what we’re doing, but yes. We are. And make sure to sing to any fruit trees you pass by.”
She laughed, and then slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling them close enough together so that they could both smell alcohol. Normally, Reid would immediately pull away from her, but instead, he slung his arm over her shoulders as well, giving an inebriated giggle. “Are we going to wake up in a ditch tomorrow morning?”
“Not if this song works! We’re totally going to knock ‘em off their feet and we’ll get the master bedroom in some nice mansion in Saffron.”
“Keep dreaming, Heather.”
“I will, thank you.”
They both shared a small fit of laughter, their feet stumbling over the wet snow and their legs awkwardly moving around to avoid crashing them both into stray trees, carrying them closer to the lights of Saffron.
“You know, we should really practice the song. I mean, if you can’t read my handwriting.”
“Hey, they didn’t write stuff down back when they actually walked around and sang to trees, so who needs it? I’ll just sing with you.”
“I’m not a good singer. I’m worse when I’m drunk.”
“We’re singing at people! They don’t get to be picky!” Heather playfully tugged a strand of Reid’s hair with the hand around his shoulder. He swatted her, and they stumbled onto the front steps of someone’s house.
Heather was the one to pound the door, and when it opened, there was immediate singing.
“Here we come a-wassailing,”
“Among the beavers green!”
“Heather, it’s ‘leaves so green’, my handwriting isn’t that bad!”
“Among the leaves so green! Here we come a-wandering, So far to be seen--”
“Fair. So fair to be seen~”
And at the doorway, a bewildered child stood and wondered why the weird people from up the road were shouting at him.
Reid and Heather Wassailing (and suddenly I want this to actually happen)
That was basically all Reid could think as he walked along beside Heather. Even with five drinks in him (goddamn it, Carmen), he knew this was a bad idea and he was going to end up miserable tomorrow.
No reason to let that get him down now, though.
“Here. You know how to read music, right?” Reid offered her a page he had written the traditional Wassailing song on after his third drink. The alcohol was keeping him feeling warm (despite dropping his core temperature), so the calf-high snow didn’t even bother him as they walked closer to Saffron.
“Uh, sorta?” She took the music from him, cocking her head to read it a little better. “Dude, your handwriting kinda sucks.”
“That’s what happens when you’re drunk, Heather. But why would I need to tell you?”
She gave him a sheepish smile. She absolutely hadn’t been drinking her weight in alcohol back at the farm, what are you talking about? (Damn it, Albert, why did you let them leave.)
“So we’re hitting up the houses and then the center?”
“They’re likely not going to know what we’re doing, but yes. We are. And make sure to sing to any fruit trees you pass by.”
She laughed, and then slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling them close enough together so that they could both smell alcohol. Normally, Reid would immediately pull away from her, but instead, he slung his arm over her shoulders as well, giving an inebriated giggle. “Are we going to wake up in a ditch tomorrow morning?”
“Not if this song works! We’re totally going to knock ‘em off their feet and we’ll get the master bedroom in some nice mansion in Saffron.”
“Keep dreaming, Heather.”
“I will, thank you.”
They both shared a small fit of laughter, their feet stumbling over the wet snow and their legs awkwardly moving around to avoid crashing them both into stray trees, carrying them closer to the lights of Saffron.
“You know, we should really practice the song. I mean, if you can’t read my handwriting.”
“Hey, they didn’t write stuff down back when they actually walked around and sang to trees, so who needs it? I’ll just sing with you.”
“I’m not a good singer. I’m worse when I’m drunk.”
“We’re singing at people! They don’t get to be picky!” Heather playfully tugged a strand of Reid’s hair with the hand around his shoulder. He swatted her, and they stumbled onto the front steps of someone’s house.
Heather was the one to pound the door, and when it opened, there was immediate singing.
“Here we come a-wassailing,”
“Among the beavers green!”
“Heather, it’s ‘leaves so green’, my handwriting isn’t that bad!”
“Among the leaves so green!
Here we come a-wandering,
So far to be seen--”
“Fair. So fair to be seen~”
And at the doorway, a bewildered child stood and wondered why the weird people from up the road were shouting at him.