OK, ok. Heath spoke as he rose his hand in mock surrender. He wouldn’t mention it again, besides it didn’t seem like that was the problem anyways. Heath listened with interest as the vodka settled and warmed his insides, it was the early moments when that was all he felt, it yet having the chance to make it to his head. Seriously? Heath questioned him, though he knew that other boy told only truth. Once the rage ended, Heath could tell that there was another thing on his mind. Maybe someone else.
He gave a laugh, amused that their lives and origins were so similar. Looks like we have something in common after all. The bottle’s opening met his mouth and he savored the pain of the swig and the burn of the cold air against his throat when he finally inhaled. Staying silent, Heath thought. Deeper then most of his others, this one reached back to where he had begun and why he and his siblings had ever come to this dammed place. I just don’t get what the fuck is wrong with every one of’m. Giving the curse word extra punch as he said it.
You’d think they would wonder what would happen when we came around. Like we would sit around and just forget. Though it was what they might be doing, it was only for the moment. Heath was going to find him, and if he could, and if his mind was being filtered though a shroud of vodka he would kill him. Revenge was always sweet. But right now the vodka was sweeter, and the old bar stood oh so comfortable. |