AN: Random word drabbles. Think I might do 13 of these. Enjoy. (Oh, you know, and review, so I don't get bored with them and stop. No. That wasn't a threat. It's a promise.)
Don't own shiz-nat.
Round
After six years, she finally called him. Finally, finally, finally, finally, called him.
She was under the influence of alcohol that evening, which worked out great because so was he. He was sober enough to know not to sleep with her, but not sober enough as to remember exactly how to articulate.
Both of their voices were more than a little slurred, as she said right now, as he said hello Sarah, and probably most unfortunately, as she said, "Well, Jareth, how do I look?"
It was there that he made his biggest mistake. The goblin booze he'd been chugging, which may as well have been 100 proof, pure alcohol, had impaired his vocabulary. Instead of his usual, verbose self, the Goblin King, whose eyes had latched onto certain parts of Sarah's anatomy, couldn't even come up with 'nice.'
No, due to the areas his sight had latched upon, Jareth, disastrously regurgitated, "Your definitely more round that I remember you." Meaning of course, that her womanly areas had swelled and filled out nicely. Roundly.
She, no matter how many times he tried to explain what he meant, was highly offended, and kicked him out crying drunken, sloppy tears.
The Goblin Kings' only hope was that she was too drunk to remember in the morning.