Chapter 120: Drunk Armani
[So, what I failed to accomplish through reason, philosophy, and emotional guidance, the Ice Chick managed with a single photograph.]
"She thinks she can master Mana Coating before me just because she has better Mana control," Zac muttered as he climbed the hill.
[At present, her confidence appears entirely justified.]
"Keep talking like that, and I’ll spend every info point I have finding a way to mute you."
[Unfortunately, that feature isn’t included in your package.]
Zac looked up the path towards Armani’s cottage.
His reluctance had not disappeared entirely. The resentment, confusion, and unanswered questions surrounding his aunt still weighed on him, but for the moment, they had been pushed aside by a far more pressing concern.
The Ice Cube was ahead of him, and Zac had no intention of letting things stay that way.
Before he fully realized it, he had already reached the cottage.
He stood before the front door with one hand raised to knock. Just as his knuckles were about to touch the wood, however, he stopped and stared at the door in silence.
[Why are you hesitating now?]
Zac did not answer.
[You walked all the way here because you’d already decided to ask for her help. Stop being a coward and get on with it.]
"I’m not being a coward. I’m thinking."
[And how long is that going to take? At this rate, the Ice Cube will master Mana Coating before you manage to knock.]
Zac released a slow breath and raised his hand again, but before he could knock, Armani’s voice came from inside the cottage.
"Come in. Why are you standing outside like a statue?"
Zac shook his head and pushed open the door. The moment he entered the living room, he stopped in his tracks.
Several bottles of alcohol were scattered across the table and floor. Some were completely empty, while others still contained varying amounts of amber liquid.
Armani lay sprawled across a long lounge sofa in the center of the room, looking nothing like New Dawn Academy’s powerful and dignified vice principal.
Her hip-length black hair had come loose, spilling carelessly across the cushions, with a few strands framing her flawless face and half-lidded golden eyes. A dark silk nightgown draped loosely over her tall, mature figure, slipping slightly from one shoulder.
At six feet tall, she possessed the refined strength of a seasoned warrior and the graceful curves of a grown woman, with a narrow waist, long legs, and striking proportions the flowing fabric did little to conceal.
Under the cottage’s warm light, her flawless skin, soft cherry-colored lips, disheveled hair, and piercing golden eyes gave her a wild, intoxicating beauty entirely different from her usual composed appearance.
Zac’s gaze lingered for a fraction of a second before he immediately turned his head away.
[Your aunt is extraordinarily beautiful.]
"I have eyes. I noticed."
Armani slowly turned her head towards him. Her unfocused golden eyes narrowed as though she were struggling to place the person standing inside her house.
"What’re you looking at?" she asked, the words slightly slurred.
"Nothing." Zac kept his gaze fixed firmly on the opposite wall.
Armani followed his line of sight and frowned. "There’s nothing over there."
"I know."
"Then why’re you staring at it?"
Zac briefly glanced at her nightgown before immediately looking away again. "Why are you dressed like that?"
Armani blinked several times, taking an unreasonable amount of time to process the question. "This is my house; I can dress however I... hic... however I want."
"Fine. Wear whatever you want."
Zac turned towards the door. "I’ll come back later." He had barely taken a step when a blur crossed his vision.
Before he could react, Armani appeared directly in front of the door. Even drunk, her speed was terrifying.
"Wait, wait... wait." She reached for his shoulder.
Zac instinctively leaned away, but she caught him before he could escape, dragged him back into the living room, and pushed him onto the lounge sofa.
He stared up at her, utterly baffled.
Armani stood directly in front of him, swaying gently from side to side. Her loosened hair spilled over one shoulder, while the silk nightgown shifted with every unsteady movement.
[You seem nervous.]
"I’m sitting in front of a drunk woman powerful enough to turn me into paste with one careless movement. Of course I’m nervous."
[That isn’t the only reason, is it?]
"Wash your dirty mind with detergent."
[I said nothing improper. You’re attacking me over conversations that haven’t even happened yet. Your paranoia is evolving.]
Armani leaned closer and peered into Zac’s face.
"Why’re you running away from me?"
"I’m not running away. I’m planning to come back after you sober up."
"Why should I sober up?" She frowned at him. "It’s not like I’m drunk."
Zac slowly turned his head towards the collection of bottles scattered around the room. Armani followed his gaze and frowned at them as though they had personally betrayed her.
"Those prove nothing," she declared. "Some of them were already empty."
"Is that so?"
"Yes." She nodded firmly, then nearly lost her balance from the effort. "Exactly."
"Whatever. I came here to ask you something, but this clearly isn’t a good time." Zac stood and attempted to walk around her. "I’ll come back once you’re sober."
Armani immediately stepped in front of him and shoved him back onto the sofa.
"Hey!"
"Don’t run." She pointed at him, though her finger drifted slightly to the left. "Tell me what you want."
"No. We’ll talk after you sober up."
"I can help you."
"While you’re drunk?"
"I’m perfectly capable."
"You can barely stand properly."
Armani looked down at her legs and discovered that she was standing with one crossed awkwardly over the other.
"Oh." She remained silent for several seconds, seemingly fascinated by this revelation. "I really am standing cross-legged."
She lifted her head with a proud smile. "You know... hic... I heard standing like this improves blood flow."
"Fine. Carry on with your blood-flow training. I’ll be back later."
"No, no, no. That won’t do." Her playful stubbornness faded slightly. "I have something I need to tell you. Things I’ve wanted to say for a very long time."
She placed a hand over her chest. "There’s a lot sitting in here, Zac. Too much." Her smile faltered for the briefest moment. "I need to... let it out."
Zac immediately grew wary. "Can’t you let it out after you sober up?"
"No." Armani shook her head firmly, then winced at the movement. "No, I can’t."
"Why not?"
"Because sober me is..." She paused, squinting as she searched for the word. "Sober me is stupid."
Zac raised an eyebrow. "And drunk you aren’t?"
"Drunk me has guts."
[Debatable.]
Zac ignored the system and leaned back against the sofa.
Every sensible instinct he possessed was telling him to leave, but beneath Armani’s drunken smile, he caught a glimpse of something unexpectedly fragile.
"Fine," he said. "Go ahead."
Armani looked at him, and for a moment, her golden eyes seemed almost clear. "Do you know why I got drunk?"
Zac waited, allowing her to continue in her own time.
Armani opened her mouth, but no words came. Her gaze lowered, and the silence stretched on until the humor slowly drained from her face.
"It’s because..."
Her voice softened.
"I’m looonnnnelyyyy..."
Before Zac could respond, Armani’s body tilted forwards.
"Wait." Zac reached out as she continued falling towards him. "Armani, wait."
Zac tried to move away, but before he could, Armani collapsed against him.
Her head landed on his shoulder, while the rest of her weight pushed him deeper into the sofa. For several seconds, Zac remained completely frozen, unsure what on earth he was supposed to do.
[Well, well.]
"Don’t."
[I haven’t said anything yet.]
"I know exactly what you’re about to say, so don’t."
[Is this what people mean when they say fortune has fallen straight into your lap?]
"I said don’t."
[As though I ever listen to you.]
Zac slipped one arm around Armani’s back to keep her from sliding onto the floor. "What am I supposed to do with her now?"
[Why are you asking me? She’s in your lap, not mine.]
"God, how did it come to this?"
[Life is full of unexpected learning opportunities.]
"This is not educational."
Zac tried to sit Armani upright, but her arms loosely wrapped around him as she mumbled something incomprehensible.
"Hey. Get up."
She did not respond.
"Come on, Armani. Wake up."
No matter how much he tried, she remained fast asleep, her body limp against his. "I should never have come here."
With a resigned sigh, Zac lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.
Once there, he tried to set her on her feet long enough to pull back the blanket, but every time he loosened his grip, she simply leaned into him again.
"Stand properly for five seconds. That’s all I’m asking."
[You do realise she can’t hear you, don’t you?]
Zac ignored the System and straightened the part of Armani’s nightgown that had become twisted during the walk.
He then guided her towards the bed, intending to lower her gently onto the mattress, but before he could, Armani’s cheeks suddenly puffed out.
Zac’s eyes widened. "No!"
Her face tightened.
"No, no, no. Wait. Wait!"
A moment later, she vomited all over the front of his clothes.
The bedroom fell completely silent.
Once she was done, Armani climbed onto the bed by herself, curled up beneath the blanket, and went straight back to sleep.
Zac stood motionless beside her, staring down at his ruined clothes in horror while she slept soundly without a care in the world.
He slowly turned his head towards her.
"Some great figure you are."