Pretty Little Wallflower

“You’re like a pretty little wallflower, aren’t you?” He hiccupped, looking into her eyes with a goofy grin.
“Do you even know what that means? You’re drunk,” She laughed at Tony’s alcohol induced confidence. The closer they got to the tour bus, the heavier he seemed to get, Viola wasn’t sure how much more weight her shoulders could manage.
“You find a way around everything. You pretend like things don’t faze you. Oh, so rational Viola. Always calm and collected. Bullshit.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m the most sober I’ve ever been, actually. With Jack in my system, I can see right through your optimistic façade. So tell me, what made you this way?”
“You’re drunk.”