I'm not too sure why she was allowed to drink. Someone should have set down the rules long before and stated "SUZUMIYA HARUHI SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO DRINK." Then again, seeing as she normally deals with things that aren't favorable to her, it would have been changed shortly after. And none the wiser. Except, of course, me. I'm always the wiser when it comes to her. Sadly.
She made a disgruntled sound, waving the half empty bottle of chilled vodka in my face (that weird Smirnoff or whatever. Strawberry flavored. Tastes like a stupid soda if you ask me. No wonder she likes it. She's still so childish.) "Kyoooon don't be such an ass-hole. Drink a little. We're in AMERICA!! You're supposed to PARTY!" Haruhi threw her hands in the air cheerfully.
This sober ass-hole is driving you home.
The girl gave me an aghast stare. "Kyon." I was half surprised she wasn't talking to the fish tank to my right. She paused, then giggled as she stepped closer—too close—and stared up at me with those oh-too-familiar-the-world-could-end-with-these-eyes and gave me a small smile. I looked away, unable to really figure out how I should deal with the shot down her shirt.
"Kyon… I swear to drunk I'm not God."
Some would beg to differ.
"Huh?"
"Nothing. Finish that bottle, we're going." I threw my coat at her (looks like she had forgotten hers in her apartment) and reached for my own drink while adverting my entire concentration from her pouting face.