~The Drop in Drunk
"-mother fucking bi-"
“XAVIER WOULD YOU CUT IT OUT?!”
I stare at my friend, my arms crossed as he slumps against my portrait, jabbing his index finger against painted ‘me’s’ chest. “You think yur SOOO fun-ney, don’t youu? Glaring at me like that, well guess what buck-ur-rooo. I took Taekwondo!” He lifts his front leg and raises his arms, poking my portrait with the toe of his shoe. His eyelids flutter and his words are slurred. I can already feel claustrophobia settling in just from his rancid breath filling the air.
Josie stands by my side, curious. Her head tilted and her eyes wide. “Is he okay?”
I sigh. “This is your average intoxicated Xavier.” I look to her. “He also comes and stays here when he’s drunk, upon average.”
She knits her brows in concern. “Is he a..?” She doesn’t answer that question.
“No,” but I understand it completely. “He’s not exactly addicted to alcohol. But being the proud fuckboy he is, he will do drinking games, take dares and bets, ‘chug’. Next morning he doesn’t remember a thing and ends up stumbling out of someone’s bed and wobbling to my door.”
“So he’s a partier?” She asks.
Xavier licks my portrait and smacks his lips. “Tastes like paint.”
“Yes,” I respond. “Very much so.”
“That’s funny,” she says. “He reminds me of Darby. A lot.”
I furrow my brow as Xavier slumps to the floor, lolling his head to one side as he counts how many fingers he has for the third time this minute. “Darby?” The second the name leaves my lips, it’s like a bell rings. That’s right, Josie’s friend, the one who I thought was her sister, the one who she..
I glance at Josie, whose in her own little world observing Xavier’s drunken state.
..the one who she, burned.
I flashback to the garden for a second. The sunny blue sky of the Heaven’s. When I still hated Josie with absolute certainty. And then I saw her sobbing, defeated. Mumbling something about her Mom..
Just thinking about those tears unnerves me. I mean who likes to see a woman cry? Not me. I don’t even like to see women in general.
“Yes, my friend. She’s a partier herself. And I won’t sugar coat this, she’s a major slut.” She puts her hands up, “And I don’t mean that in a disrespectful way, after all the word means-”
“-A woman who has many casual sexual partners.” We both say simultaneously.
“Mm.. I would like a merlot, on fire please!” Xavier flails a arm in the air before flopping to his side like a dog in heat, in their sleep.
It’s disturbing watching him like this. But in a way it’s also ironic.
I sighs and walk over to my friend, hoisting him up before slinging his arm over my shoulder. Xavier looks at Josie before looking at me, pressing a finger to my cheek. “You have a very pretty friend mieess.”
Josie snickers, covering her nose. “I wonder which of us he means.”
I scoff, and head over to one of the couches, where I toss Xavier into a drunken heap. With a snap of my fingers, my magic rolls over him and he instantly sleeps.
Satisfied, I brush off my clothes when Josie asks me a question from behind. “Have you ever been drunk?”
I stiffen slightly before looking over my shoulder. “Pardon?”
She asks me again, more boldly. “I asked if you’ve ever been drunk before.”
I smirk, looking up the stairs to the patio before looking back to Josie. “No, I’m not a big drinker.”
Oh, she mouths, a little meek. She flicks her gaze to Xavier. “Why do you think he got drunk?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. He doesn’t drink late, only when he’s out. But last night we both went to our determined residences. And he has made a habit of staying away from alcohol early in the morning..” It is a bit curious as to why he would be so drunk, so early. He doesn’t go out in the middle of the night. When he comes home he stays home.
Flashes of a burning flame and deadly shine of metal picture in my head.
I come back to the present and look at Josie, who seems a bit worried. And in result, I feel a twist in my heart, as if someone stirred a pot of soup. I give her a small, encouraging smile. “Don’t worry, I’m sure Xavier was being an idiot. As usual.”
She returns me a small smile, but it’s uncertain.
We both have our own theories.
But all I know is, I need to have a talk with my Father.
After giving Zuko instruction to watch over the house, I head out of my wing and into the manor. It’s much more bright then last night, with the electricity on, and less creepy.
When I was smaller, I would make a rule to never leave my bedroom, when it wasn’t lit. Even born into the darkness, with shadows rolling through my veins, I hated having to get up at night.
I was never afraid of the darkness itself.
I was afraid of what might be in it.
I stride down the corridors with the same aura I use whenever around random staff. Shoulders back, chin up, back tall and straight. I’ve loved the feeling of respect.
But for some reason, I don’t get it a lot from, well, ahem-
“Good morning, Jabeth.” Charis’s thumps in my ears and I turn to see her stutting alongside me. Her hair now down from it’s usual bun, and a touch up to her makeup. As usual, I ignore it. “Mr. Blackwell, please.”
She furrows her brow at me, “Is this because of your cousin?”
“In this manor, you will address me as Mr. Blackwell, Miss Harlo.” My voice is sharp, a barking order.
She doesn’t back down though, and honestly, it’s getting annoying. “Oh come on, let’s have lunch! It’s a quarter to twelve and-”
I whirl on her, exasperated. “MISS Harlo. You will address me by Mr. Blackwell, or you cannot address me at all.” I slowly start toward her, and on instinct she backs up slowly. “If needed I will fire and replace you. Don’t worry, there are lots of people willing to take your place.”
A lot of women, I almost added. But I should have more dignity then to make her jealous like that. I don’t have any feeling for Charis other then annoyance and the smallest amount of respect when she gives me the same in return. So to play with her like that is cruel.
I spin on my heel and continue towards my Father’s office. I can only hope maybe he is available.
We have much to discuss.