New World with Four Husbands

Chapter 392: Drunken messes

The celebration started about nine hours ago and now, Coco is standing over a couple of drunken messes either on the floor, on the table, on the couch in the corner of the room, or somewhere else around the room.

She honestly doesn’t know how a party could be going for almost ten hours straight, but she guessed she was just an amateur, huh?

Fortunately, she has not touched a single glass of any alcoholic beverage and rather chose a glass of juice every time she was asked to drink one— her avoidance of alcohol was steamed from the fact that the body she was inhabiting was a bad drinker before.

Even if she had not drunk a drop, she was still having fun chatting and playing with her friends.

However, her friends, on the other hand, became stupidly drunk after drinking a little too much— she had to pull the drinks out of their hands, mostly Jacques’ and Sinclair’s, to make them stop.

Now, she’s standing before a sleeping Renaldo that had his head lolled to the side with a bottle of alcohol on his arms.

Jacques was sleeping behind him, right on the couch, and had her arm hooked over his shoulder as she snore the night away, seemingly not having a fuck where she was at the moment.

Joachim was sleeping by the table, his back against the surface with Mrs. Tani’s hand pressed on his stomach while she slept beside him, tucked uncomfortably on the chair.

Jonathan was still awake, looking quite flushed and dazed, and was talking to the second husband.

Zaque, Quizen, and Alhai don’t seem to be in the right state of their mind as well— having cradling something in their arms and mumbling something incoherently under their breaths.

They were stationed by the other end of the table, their heads laid on the table, and eyes barely open.

Coco let out a sigh, feeling lost and slowly accepting her fate to be the only one who is sober at the moment, and rubbed a hand down her face.

"Cocoooo!" A drunken drawl reached her ears, making her flinch and turn her attention to the owner.

"Yes? What is it, Sinclair?" She asked politely, keeping a composed smile on her face or rather, trying to keep a composed smile to not alert the drunk hybrid.

How can a hybrid get drunk anyway? Are they not supposed to be magical beings?

The question lingered at the back of her mind, but it wasn’t enough to actually pull her attention away from the drunk bird before her, stumbling on his feet as he approached her.

"Careful." Coco warned, her hands shooting out to help stabilize the drunken mess of a bird.

"I am careful, silly!" Sinclair said, laughing with hazy enthusiasm as he accepted Coco’s hands and continued to stumble on his feet. "I came here to say cooooongratulaaaaaations!"

Sinclair was drunk enough for him to drag his word out and laugh loudly, tugging Coco closer to him and wrapping his arms around Coco’s head.

"I’ll do anything for youuuuu, masssteeer." Sinclair murmured, his voice muffled against her hair. "So you need to be happy and not leave this failure of a bird, mkay? I’ll do good, I promise."

It may be a drunken mumbling, but the words made Coco’s heart squeeze painfully inside her chest.

"I won’t leave you or anyone for that matter, okay?" Coco said, patting his back and slowly rocked him back and forth. "And you’re not a failure, you never were a failure."

Sinclair didn’t respond, but his weight leaned against her as he melted, his breath evening out.

Coco blinked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion and wondered if the hybrid had fallen asleep while she was trying to soothe his worries.

"Coco! Oh, no— I’m so sorry!" Alithe called out, his voice shaking as he jogged his way over to them. "He said he wanted more of the fruit punch, but he was too drunk to get one so I went out to get some instead!"

Alithe quickly explained, dropping the said fruit punch by the nearest small stable, which was beside the couch Jacques was sleeping on, and reached towards Sinclair.

"Here, let me get him off you." He grunted out, his arms wrapping around his husband’s torso and promptly pulled him away from Coco. "I heard what he said.. And seriously, thank you for trying to tell him that he wasn’t what he thinks he is."

Alithe didn’t look Coco in the eyes, but there was sincere gratitude behind his words— the slight tremble in his words told her so.

"Anytime, Alithe." Coco said, smiling softly as he assisted him in putting Sinclair in a comfortable position in his arms. "He was too kind for his own good, but that’s what made him Sinclair, right?"

Alithe nodded his head, his eyes still glued to his husband’s sleeping face. "Truly, this man is my life.. And you, helping me save him, makes me forever grateful to you."

"That’s too much." Coco laughed, lightheaded and playful, but the same guilt that had been eating in her conscience resurfaced. "There’s no need to be forever grateful to me, Alithe. I merely did what I had to do."

He doesn’t know the truth about the quest she received back then and she probably wouldn’t help him save Sinclair if it weren’t for the quest.

So, hearing him say that he’s forever grateful is hurting her.

"Yeah.. Anyway, I’m sure you can’t take your husbands home all by yourself so I booked a room for the five of you." Alithe quickly changed the topic and nudged his head to the direction of the mediators.

"Your friends’ room is right across from yours.. And I don’t think they can walk to their rooms." He added to his previous sentence, turning to face the table.

"I’ll carry them to their rooms once I’m done putting my husbands to ours." Coco said, accompanied with a laugh.

"Alright, I’ll help you carry them."