Crayvin
A drunk Cassandra is probably one of my favorites as well. She is less stressed about everything. Happy.
When I emerge from the bathroom dressed in my black pajama pants with no shirt, Cassandra is posted on the couch, flipping through the available movie rentals on the screen. Her doe eyes about pop out of her skull as they meet mine. Her full cheeks pinken instantly and she scrunches her nose.
"Crayvin, shirt!"
A belly laugh rumbles out of me at her reaction. "You act as if you haven't seen a shirtless man before."
"Doesn't mean I want to see you without a shirt on," she states. I feel a slight pinch in my chest with that answer.
When there is a knock at the door, Cassandra shoots up from the couch to get the room service and I quickly throw on a white T-shirt. Seconds late
