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“I’m home!” Rogue called, entering their apartment.
“Come over here!”
Rogue gulped. There was a slight slur in her voice, and she sounded...mad.
Never a good sign.
Rogue uneasily went to the living room. He was greeted by the sight of Minerva on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket.
It would have been adorable had there not been a bunch of wine bottles around her. And if there hadn’t been a killer glare on her face.
Rogue turned to bolt, but a wine bottle smashed into his head. He turned slowly.
“Rogue.” If possible, Minerva’s glare had turned even more terrifying.
“Y-yes?”
“I got a message from Sting.”
She struggled to get something out of the blanket. Rogue went over to help, but Minerva glared, stopping him in his tracks.
“I can do it on my own!” she snapped.
She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him shakily.
Rogue read it slowly. “So. Sting wants you to dance in front of the apart-”
“I know! Don’t say it aloud!”
“And that’s why you got drunk?”
Minerva picked up another bottle. “If I do it, I know I actually have to be insane. So…”
Rogue sighed. “Minerva, you can’t dance while drunk.”
“Watch me,” Minerva said, trying to escape from her blanket.
“No!” Rogue lunged and tackled her to the ground. “Minerva, please don’t dance in front of everyone.”
Minerva tried to kick him away, but she was still caught in the blanket and Rogue’s arms.
“Sting dared me. I won’t back away from his challenge!”
“I think Sting is drunk too!” Rogue pleaded. “Don’t do it, you’re going to be so embarrassed!”
“Embarrassed?” Minerva snorted. “I can never be embarrassed.”
“As I recall, you were nearly dying from that when I found you hugging your dragon pillows.”
“That was acting!” Minerva protested.
“Mhmm,” Rogue replied, picking her up.
“No! Stop!” Minerva tried to kick him again, but Rogue continued on to their bedroom and placed her gently on the bed.
“You’re in timeout,” Rogue announced.
“What?”
“Let’s wait until you’re sober.”
Minerva huffed and wriggled out of her blanket, but Rogue latched on to her waist, dragging her back to the bed.
“I hate you,” Minerva moaned.
“Yeah, I love you too,” Rogue chuckled.
Minerva turned and nuzzled his neck. “I know.”
Rogue pecked her cheek. Minerva turned her head and kissed him, smiling.
“I remember now,” Rogue muttered. “You’re excessively affectionate when drunk.”
“I can always be affectionate if you want.” Minerva smirked.
Rogue touched their foreheads together. “I would like that.”
They fell asleep on the bed, one drunk, the other sober, but both happy.