“Prim human customs,” Sev replied with a cheeky grin, “are sometimes all that keep us from getting shot by jealous human husbands.”  He considered that for a moment. “Or thrown out a window. Or challenged to duels at inconvenient hours. Nevertheless...” he brought the flask to his lips, then hesitated as the stench of raw alcohol struck his nostrils.<br/><br/>“Nevertheless,” he continued, putting the flak back down with a hasty shudder, “I should be delighted to join you in your quarters”. Stoppering the flask, he admired the sway of Alythra’s hips as she paraded herself towards the exit. Then he rose, pushing up with his right arm to lever himself out of his seat.<br/><br/>That proved to be a mistake.<br/><br/>Sev uttered a strangled little sound as the effort strained muscles that were not fully healed, sending a jolt of pain through his chest.  “Or,” he gasped, struggling not to swear in front of a lady, “perhaps I should rest a little longer. To ensure that I am ready to discharge my duties this evening?”<br/><br/>Gasping a little and clenching his fist repeatedly, he sagged back into his chair.<i>Fuck, </i>he thought, watching in a mix of pain and frustration as she left the common area.<i>Fuck fuck <b>fuck!</b></i><br/><br/>Irritably, he unstoppered the flask and swigged down a mouthful of harsh liquor. He sure as hell wasn’t going to take disappointment<i>sober</i>.