i make myself lol... /dork
Holy Jesus. In the past nothing would have stopped him from reaching for the bottle, or uncapping the next. It hurt to be this drunk, it hurt to keep the tears back and Heath knew that it would hurt to unleash them. He tried to keep them back, to keep his head and his pride from aching. But both were sore. He couldn’t believe that he punched Haven. Did he? Heath questioned suddenly in his stream of boozed thoughts. He had, he was sure of it. The coy-wolf flexed his hand, noticing the dull pain. Yeah, he had. God Heath thought. He would be apologizing for that for the rest of his life.
He looked at the male as he spoke. He believed that? Haven knew him well, Heath was sure of that. They had known each other before the pack was even created and before Haven left that fucked pack with the black furred bitch. He knew that Heath only wanted to do what was right. He was only a male, he did things that weren’t always right. He did things that should have deserved a little more thought, Ruri would understand that right? She was so amazing, beautiful, genuine. The other male’s question interrupted his sweet thoughts. And made him look from the space he begun to stare out into and set his water logged eyes at Haven.
“The thing, with Ruri.” Heath spoke, hastily and with force.
He leaned against the tree, huffing at the notion of Jac. 'Don’t fight with the king', Heath knew that much.
“I’m not supposed to fight with Jac.” He returned to Haven, his voice concerned and confused, like his sober self fought beneath the feet of drunkenness. He nodded, yes she would accept him. She always would.
“She loves me.” he said as he looked at the fruit colored male, even at night his color was unmistakable. Canada never had oranges, and such a thing was tragic. Focusing, he pointed at himself to restate his last phrase.
300