[ he's over the first hurdle, settled and seated without too many questions, so nick feels safe in assuming that he's gotten away without having to endure pressing lines of questioning. he's not quick enough to come up with good lies right now, all his usual excuses aren't working, but he tucks into cellar's side and leans the side of his head on top of hers, and exhales.

he'll be fine, he just needs a minute--and all of this alcohol, probably. ]

God, nothing really. Finding presents for people, getting high, getting stuck in mistletoe. I need like, a fucking hobby. [ this is supposed to be funny so nick snorts, raising his head only as long as he has to in order to drink again without spilling anything into cellar's hair before he holds the bottle out to her again. ] Please tell me you've found something more interesting to occupy your time.