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A Long Night

“Are the lights dancing?” Veil's speech sounded slurry, and she thought she was going to topple right off the chair. She couldn’t remember how many shots she had had, and Orleans wasn’t really keeping count either.

“You’re just drunk, Veil,” Orleans chuckled, his shoulders moving along with the sound. He felt the tension of the week leave his bones, and he relaxed on one hand, leaning on the table.

“No,” Veil shook her head. “Can’t you see it? The lights are … they are hopping now? Is it salsa? Maybe ballet.”

“You sound so convincing that if I didn’t know better, I would have believed you immediately,” Orleans said. “Should we try something fun?”

“What are you thinking?” Veil grinned at him. “Another … round of shots? I’m sure … I can down it … without the lime. Wanna see it?”

“We should take a drive around town,” Orleans suggested, his eyes sparkling. “My car is a convertible, so we can feel the wind on our faces. We could add music to it and belt it out loudly into the night. What
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