Warren hurled the empty across the room at the fireplace. He'd already knocked the candles out and the small explosion of glass shards satisfied a visceral part of him. He staggered across to his - their - stash of bottles and took an armful, returning to the front door and bracing his back against it before sliding down the length of it, crumpling to the floor. He pulled off a cap and drank heavily, just as he had the others.
"Suh... 'sposed 'ta bring you home." He emphasized the last word, indicating as if he had taken him somewhere else. " 'sposed to be here. Suhpose t' be here..." He cut off the emotions with a flash of anger, emptying the bottle.
"S' my faul'. I'm th' reason yer' not home anymore. I sen' you t' that place, an' it's my faul' yer not comin' home." His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, the beast speaking through his own tongue. "S' my faul' yer' probly dead up there. I killed you."
The words reached his ears as a foreign entity and he broke down, the bottle bouncing off of the floor forgotten as he drew himself into a sobbing ball on the ground. "Killed you fer a girl who didn' even look at my 'nymore. Killed you by not bein' able to take a gods-damned hint." He spit bile at the words, his face contorting into an angry snarl. "Killed you by bein' weak."
It was a flash in the pan, his words lashes against his own back. He retreated back into grief, wiping his eyes as they leaked and scooping up the remaining bottles and managing to get himself on unstable legs to his seat at the table. He didn't notice the bits of broken glass sticking to his feet, or the red trail he was leaving.
He sat heavily, taking his head in his hands and then removing the top on another bottle. "S'not fair, you know. Leavin' me to drink all'a this. Even if I knew I'd be drinkin' it all anyway. You can' hol' your liquor, not like ol' Warren can." He snickered to himself, teasing his absent friend. "I'd en' up carryin' you to yer bed. Ace can hol' more booze than you can." Warren laughed, sniffling and taking another long swig. "S'alright. I'll get ridda these bottles. You woulda-" A hitch, followed by a whisper. "Woulda wanted it this way." The laughter had drained out of him now. He looked towards the empty chair opposite his and felt something inside of him strain, then burst.
Warren collapsed his face into the crook of his arm, nodding and sobbing. "Alright. I'll leave one. Jus' one. For when you get back." He slid one of the remaining bottles across the table, directly in front of the empty chair.
The highlander drew his hands over his head and quietly sobbed himself to sleep.
"Suh... 'sposed 'ta bring you home." He emphasized the last word, indicating as if he had taken him somewhere else. " 'sposed to be here. Suhpose t' be here..." He cut off the emotions with a flash of anger, emptying the bottle.
"S' my faul'. I'm th' reason yer' not home anymore. I sen' you t' that place, an' it's my faul' yer not comin' home." His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, the beast speaking through his own tongue. "S' my faul' yer' probly dead up there. I killed you."
The words reached his ears as a foreign entity and he broke down, the bottle bouncing off of the floor forgotten as he drew himself into a sobbing ball on the ground. "Killed you fer a girl who didn' even look at my 'nymore. Killed you by not bein' able to take a gods-damned hint." He spit bile at the words, his face contorting into an angry snarl. "Killed you by bein' weak."
It was a flash in the pan, his words lashes against his own back. He retreated back into grief, wiping his eyes as they leaked and scooping up the remaining bottles and managing to get himself on unstable legs to his seat at the table. He didn't notice the bits of broken glass sticking to his feet, or the red trail he was leaving.
He sat heavily, taking his head in his hands and then removing the top on another bottle. "S'not fair, you know. Leavin' me to drink all'a this. Even if I knew I'd be drinkin' it all anyway. You can' hol' your liquor, not like ol' Warren can." He snickered to himself, teasing his absent friend. "I'd en' up carryin' you to yer bed. Ace can hol' more booze than you can." Warren laughed, sniffling and taking another long swig. "S'alright. I'll get ridda these bottles. You woulda-" A hitch, followed by a whisper. "Woulda wanted it this way." The laughter had drained out of him now. He looked towards the empty chair opposite his and felt something inside of him strain, then burst.
Warren collapsed his face into the crook of his arm, nodding and sobbing. "Alright. I'll leave one. Jus' one. For when you get back." He slid one of the remaining bottles across the table, directly in front of the empty chair.
The highlander drew his hands over his head and quietly sobbed himself to sleep.
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
