Purple
When Charlie wakes up, he's got the headache of the millennium but he honestly did not drink enough to warrant it.
As the pain diminishes in small increments, he comes to the only conclusion that is logical and a total blow to his ego: his drink was spiked last night.
He does not like this.
He reaches an arm to the other side of his bed but it's predictably cold and empty. He clearly remembers having the diminutive witch curl around him like a vine but she's obviously not in bed anymore since she's the only one who could have altered his drink.
Charlie doesn't imagine it was a sort of date-rape drug because she did not need it to get any man into bed with her.
Waiting the headache out, Charlie braces himself for the trouble she's probably caused.
He does not imagine it's as bad as it is.
*
"We've got a missing dragon, Charlie, and the pen has been opened with your key."
His boss, Marguerite, looks at him, clearly frazzled but managing to keep a tight control over herself.
Charlie cringes and gradually shrinks in his seat as he tells her his story until he's got his head in his hands, between his legs, waiting for her to announce that she's sacking him.
Which he totally deserves.
Which he totally expects.
Which is totally worth it, a small part of him says as he recalls with more detail the night spent with the purple-eyed witch.