Mary sat across from Mickey, finishing her fourth or fifth glass of rum. Her company was keeping up with her just fine, the two barely feeling the buzz from the alcohol. With the two dragons finally calm, the kingdom enjoyed some peace.
Mary set her glass down and pulled a compact from her bag, checking to make sure her lipstick was still in tact.
“You look fine, mo pheata." Mickey leaned forward, a smug grin on his face. “Although, I'd much rather it be a mess."
Mary arched a brow as she clamped the compact shut. She stuck it back in her bag, leaning forward as well. Their faces were mere inches apart and Mary could smell the whiskey on his breath.
“Just how do you expect to do that?" Mary breathed.
“Oh, I have my ways, little one." Mickey's fingertips gently traced the outline of M
