[Belit Drunk] Leave Belit and return to Rosary

You felt it might be a little uncouth to abandon Rosary right now for the sake of a shot at the ranger who'd drank the majority of the party's wine. You slipped away from Belit with a quiet "good night," and left her drooling upon her pillow, while you returned back to the camp's bonfire to sit with Rosary.

The nun was still seated where you left her, now sipping at the last of the wine. It seemed her preferred measure was a great deal less than the cup Belit had poured for her earlier and then been dared to drink herself. Surprise registered on Rosary's face as she saw you, before settling into a smile. "Did you get Belit to bed properly? Thank you, Sir Lavender. You're quite a gentleman," she chuckled, passing you the bottle with the last of the Royal Red in it. "I'll bet Ms. Von Bromide is very cute when she's sleeping. Quite the opposite of the scoundrel she is when she's awake!"

You took a spot on the bench next to her and poured yourself the remainder of the wine. The seat was... rather occupied by Rosary, who filled it quite well, making it a more snug, shoulder-to-shoulder affair than you'd perhaps intended when you suavely settled in next to her. The nun's face took a dark blush as the two of you ended up nudged next to each other, but she evidently decided she liked it; she tilted her head slightly to rest her golden curls upon your shoulder.

"Isn't this lovely, Sir Lavender? This is how I always pictured my nights would be, after meeting the squire Geod had destined to be with me," she sighed happily. "A star-lit sky, a warm fire, and the company of the man I love... truly, Geod blesses his faithful."

The softness of her hair left, replaced by the warmth of her cheek. She nestled in even closer, now pressing her bosom against your arm. You didn't think she was drunk on anything but visions of romance at this point, but those were doing a number on her, as the stars in the sky were reflected in her half-shaded doe eyes. A plea seemed to be hanging upon her trembling lips. The poor nun was **** for your invitation.