no it's a crayon

as the night unfurls around them, Spider makes their way through their pilfered bottle and finds themself growing progressively more light-headed. and by the time they stumble away from the bonfire for a bit of peace and quiet, their steps feel heavy and their tongue is like cotton in their mouth. they're not completely sloshed, but it's a level of intoxication they haven't reached prior to tonight, and they're not entirely sure if they like it or not. at least it makes stuff with Hazel - nonopewe'rnenotthinkingaboutthat - seem further away. out here, nestled within unfamiliar territory, they can almost pretend their entire world hasn't dramatically altered its course. almost.

"Speech"