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Angel sprawled dramatically across the bar's surface, cradling his, now empty, bottle of whiskey like a lifeline.
"Babe, ya gotta hook me up with s'more," he drawled, looking up at Husk's unamused face.
"Ange, there's no way I'm giving you more." He stated firmly, drying glasses, occasionally glancing worriedly at Angel Dust, who was now utterly immersed in swirling the bottle by its neck, eyes fixed on the dancing liquid.
"Fuckin' buzzkill," he murmured half-heartedly.
A beat of comfortable silence passes, each focused on something else, Husk on his cleaning rag, and Angel on the small pool of whiskey he was still twirling in his hazy stupor.
Husk set everything down and stretched out his arms, signing contently. Just as he made to leave, Angel brought his head up abruptly, then immediately brought his hand to his forehead in regret.
"Hey kitty, drink with me?" He asked, jokingly patting the stool next to him, rubbing his temples with another two hands. Husk heaved a great sigh, rolling his eyes yet a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as he sat next to his drunk friend.
Angel immediately leant against him for support, mumbling something about how soft he is, which earned him a hearty chuckle.
"I swear, ya only keep me around for my fur." He feigned hurt, clutching his chest dramatically.
"Yeah, probably, " was all he got in response before the drowsiness finally washed over Angel, leaving him snoring, half hung over the counter and the other on Husk.
The light noise filled the now noticeably quiet room, with the absence of clinking glasses and drunken rambling. Husk soon resigned to his fate, leaning against the bar and letting sleep take him as well.