It was late. The music had slowed to a lazy hum, and most of the tables were empty now, chairs abandoned in messy clusters. Only a handful of students lingered, either half-asleep or laughing too loudly at nothing.
Noel's table, however, was still alive—though barely. Charlotte was slumped forward, cheeks flushed bright red, her head wobbling as she tried to sit upright. She blinked at her glass, then at her hand, then back at her glass again.
"I can still heal, watch this—hic—" she mumbled, raising a finger. A faint spark flickered at the tip before fizzling out. She stared at it with a triumphant smile. "See? Perfect!"
Elyra burst out laughing, lifting her own half-full glass. "Lightweight."
"I'm not light…" Charlotte protested, her words slurring as she jabbed a finger at Elyra. "I'm… holy." She nodded as if that settled the argument, then collapsed face-first onto the table. Her plate of untouched pastries rattled with the impact.
