Aftercare
Shamir sighed as she set Catherine down on the bed. Well, more like half-dropped her, since she hadn't really been carrying her. More like dragging her along. But that was just semantics, really, she thought as the blonde groaned and flopped down.
Why was she always the one who had to drag Catherine out of bars and taverns? Shamir knew the answer to that, really. She didn't mind a drink or two herself, and somebody had to look out for Catherine and keep her from drinking too much. Catherine's definition of too much was a bit higher than most people's, though.
"You're going to feel terrible tomorrow," Shamir said flatly. "I told you to stop three drinks before you did."
"Yeah, but you thought it was hilarious when I punched that guy, right?" Catherine replied, voice muffled because she was pressing her face into the pillow.
Okay, yeah, that had actually been true. Shamir hadn't been super obvious about her amusement, but it had been kind of funny.
"Besides, you know you like making me feel better, anyway."
Shamir sighed and sat down on the bed, idly playing with Catherine's hair. "Fine. You might be an idiot sometimes, but you're my idiot."
"Knew it," Catherine mumbled. "Love you."
With that, she promptly started snoring, and Shamir smiled despite shaking her head at the sight.