"Why are you so dumb?"
The question itself is rather offensive, but her tone is affectionate.
Baatar groans. He doesn't get paid enough to deal with these shenanigans. He doesn't get paid at all.
"Why are you so dumb?" Kuvira asks again, this time squishing his cheeks. Her own are flushed by a drink or two too many. She is pinching at his cheeks, cooing lovingly. It is strange to hear a woman so sturdily built in body and so rough in demeanor and mentality making such soft sounds. She hugs him close and rocks from side to side, muttering something about him having a lower IQ than the average earthbender.
After a while, she takes to petting his head and purring softly. She is pressing all of her weight against him, at this rate she would have them both toppling to the floor. He feels toned arms wrap around his middle and a chin atop his head. And then she leans a little to far and they are on the ground.
She is laughing quite unrefined.
And then she goes quiet.
"What are we doing on the ground?" The look on her face tells him that she is trying to blame him for it.
Baatar sighs and lifts her up, as much as he can anyways. He has never been known for his muscle and she is rather heavy with them. Regardless, he manages to heave her up and into his arms. With some struggle, he carries her to the sofa. She doesn't make it easy; clumsily stroking his cheek and caressing his entire face.
Baatar doesn't know how he let this happen. It was only supposed to be one or two drinks. Yet he led her home from the bar stumbling. Perhaps if the men hadn't challenged her, she wouldn't be ready to fall off of the edge of the sofa.
But they had and she was all too competitive to turn down an unhealthy drinking contest.
Granted she had won but her victory had a price that she'd be paying in the morning.
She stands on the sofa swaying her hips. Baatar holds a hand to his forehead. He has never seen her dance drunk, but he can't imagine that it'd be as graceful as her sober dances.
It doesn't take her long to prove him right. He supposes that it doesn't work to her advantage that she is making her attempt upon the uneven surface of the cushions.
By the way Kuvira sweeps her hands slowly through her hair, Baatar is under the impression that she is trying to be sexy. It almost works. It would have had she not taken a misstep. He catches her before she can topple to the floor. "I think that that's enough dancing for you." He chuckles.
"Why?"
"You almost fell." He replies.
"I didn't fall." She slurs. "The chair pushed me."
"First of all, that is a couch." Baatar points out.
"Chair, couch, same thing. Both start with C, both are used for dancing on."
Baatar sighs. She is still leaning very heavily upon him. Perhaps he should help her upstairs and into bed.
He hooks his arm around his neck. "We're going upstairs so please, for both of our sakes, hold onto the railing."
Kuvira squints at him as though the very prospect of going upstairs is some grand task. Retracting her arm she declares, "I'll beat you up there!"
He can scarcely utter, "no," before she takes off into a sprint and stumbles over her own feet. He is not close enough to catch her this time. She shoots a look at him as though he was personally responsible for her sudden acquaintanceship with the floor.
"You did this to yourself." He says as he holds out a hand. She rubs her knees before taking it. Surely they will be bruised in the morning. She is still unsteady but he manages to guide her to the bedroom anyhow. "Do you want to get dressed or…"
Kuvira has already thrown herself onto the bed, mumbling something to herself. He pulls her shoes off and unravels her hair. "Do you want the covers on?"
She nods and Baatar steps forward. She tugs him down onto the bed and squishes his face again. "You never answered me. Why are you so dumb?"
"Good night, Kuvira."
"But…"
Baatar rubs her arm. "Good night."