@lostahand

     “Brienne? Are you drunk…?” Jaime’s amused voice rang out after an incredulous pause as he observed the officer, so different from her usual poised and collected self, clearing his throat as he made to stand and approach the blonde. “What’re you doing here?” He’d given her a key to his apartment, to be sure - for emergencies, they had said - but he hadn’t expected her to use it in quite this way…

     “Here, let me help you…”

         he was quite tiny to her, and she was quite CAPABLE of hauling herself on her feet. just because she stumbled a bit and found the floor spinning beneath her as she TRIED didn’t mean she was drunk. still, whirling though she was              she couldn’t help finding a spot of HUMOUR that he would really, truly believe that she was drunk. manifested itself in the way her grin grew wide ‘pon her face, and the messy way she shook her head and plodded across the floor.

                   ❛ i didn’t want to COME here, ❜      she said, inflections slightly off, fatigue dragging her voice across her TONGUE.      ❛ they asked me which person could take care of me, s'f'course i said you. then… they dropped me off here. ❜ she groped at her SATCHEL, near ripping the top back to drop his keys. back in. a pause: she drew them back out again.      ❛ i have your keys, by the way. that’s how i got in. see? ❜