What would his sober mind say? What would the words be from a clear and lucid mouth? He would tell himself to go, to sleep. He would say that he should fall into his straw bed, and sleep the pain away and return new with morning’s birth. She would be settling for a night’s rest, and to disturb her would be just as shameful as never expressing his feelings. Feelings that would not change if he waited until the next day. If he had a sober thought, could think without the twist and turns of the maze the vodka had created. His head pounded, his heartbeat so strong that his ears could hardly hear anything else. The pulse was so powerful, and yet as he swayed to face the beast that had crossed his path he had never felt so dead.
The honey eyed male looked at the man, speaking with a ferocity,
“Get the fuck out of here.” But the words were halfhearted, lazy as they spilled from his lips. It was like everything was stopping him from just making Ruri happy. He had stopped himself, he was sure the Jac somehow had placed another barrier between them, and now this. This, someone that looked sort of like Haven, sounded sort of like him too. But Haven was his friend, and wouldn’t stand in his way like this. His clouded gaze peered at him, an angry look crossing his handsome features. With a moment’s examination Heath found that the similarities between this male and Haven were far too great.
Wait, what the hell did he think he was doing? Was that what he had just said? Heath looked at the male for another moment longer. Astonished that he would be questioned. This was his home, he belonged here. No one had the right to question where he was going or what he was doing like he was some trespasser. No, fuck no! The black handed male walked steps closer, this was his home. He repeated the thought in his mind, and he would be damned if anyone would throw him out. He was different, changed. He wanted Ruri to be happy. He wanted the best for the pack. Wasn’t that enough to allow him to stay? The anger rose, the memories flooding back. A fist balled, the dark fur of his hand blurring as he swung with a shouting.
“Fuck you!”
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