high on emotion
It isn't the alcohol, it isn't, it isn't, he tries to say as he sways and staggers and leans forward, but he can't find the words. It's the joy that burns in him. So unfamiliar a sensation, so strange to a boy who's abstained all his life (and all his death) and has instead grown used to the tastes of fear, of disgust, of lust, and of shame. This simple happiness is something which he doesn't recognise. A sip is easy, it goes down so smoothly, and before he knows it he tastes the fullness of this new partner's joy.
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