thoughtformed

Entry tags:

text

shop closde tooday du/e tos icnkess

no need to commme yb

[That's what it looks like when a drunk wizards without any grip of technology is trying to write text messages.

He sucks at it and he doesn't even care.]

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[He hasn't, mostly because he hasn't bothered trying. He's just sitting on the ground and hating himself, Rudy and himself some more.]

Hey, Sheska.

Sirius...

[She makes sure to close the door behind her and drops to her knees beside him, enfolding him in a gentle hug. He looked so miserable.]

It's alright, love. I'm just drunk. [And a bit awkwardly petting her hair, but what else is new.]

[....Oh he really ought to stop doing that or she'll never want to move. Still, she manages to reluctantly pulls back a little and tips his chin up so she can get a good look at his eyes and check his focusing power. A little crooked smile lightens her worried expression.]

Feel like you can stand? We probably shouldn't leave you in the middle of the floor.

Why not? That's a lot safer as long as the floor's moving around.

[He absently tugs on her hair and shakes his head.]

I'll be fine, love. No need to worry.

A bed would be more comfortable and less likely to leave your joints hurting when you wake, but if you really want to stay here a bit, we can do that too.

[Stars, that felt nice. No, no. Attention on her friend, please.]

I always worry. One of my many flaws. I thought we might try to hasten the feeling better part for you.

When I wake, my everything will be hurting, no matter where I am. [He knows. He knows.]

I'm not going to feel better tonight.

You really did fall down the stairs, didn't you?

[It's mostly a joke, but she smooths his fringe back from his face.]

Have you had any water since you started drowning yourself in liquor?

No. Why would I want any?

Because it means you'll be less sick later. I brought some painkillers, too, just in case, but I don't think you should take them yet. How are you feeling?

About as well as I ought to.

[So. Not very.]

Look, Sheska, I know this isn't healthy. But I don't want it to be. It's fine.

[Something in her stomach twisted. She knew that feeling. This wasn't recreational. It was grief, or guilt, or something similarly painful. This was an escape, wasn't it. Or a punishment.

Slowly, she settled so that she was sitting next to him instead of kneeling, keeping her voice soft.]

Sirius, what's wrong? Won't you tell me?

I'm really drunk?

[He's not so drunk that he doesn't know what she's actually asking, but he knows he's too drunk to explain himself properly. If there is a way he could even get it out.]

[So that was a no, then. Permitting herself a small sigh, Sheska dropped her eyes to his collarbone for the briefest moment to conceal how much that hurt. She was doing better at that trick now.]

Will you let me sit with you a while, then?

[Usually he'd have noticed, probably. Right now, not so much.]

Yeah. If you wanna.

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made a post, I didn't want to worry you. And everyone.

No, I'm glad you did. It's... nice to know. And if you hadn't, I wouldn't be able to talk to you now, would I? You shouldn't be alone when you feel like this. It would have been much worse to find out about it months later. Especially if there was something I could do to help.

Rather no one finds out when I get piss drunk like this. [To be quite honest. It's embarrassing. And right now, anyone around him is a danger, because he doesn't want to say something he'll regret. But he knows better than to tell her that, he doesn't want to hurt her.]

I know... I'm sorry I'm such a spoilsport.

[He's taller than she is but, if she scoots sideways a little and slips her arm round his shoulders, she can gently tug him down to put his head on her shoulder for once, rubbing lightly at the back of his neck and hoping he doesn't take offense at her daring.]

I tend to prefer company when I'm upset, so sometimes I forget that not everyone does. Especially when I'm worried. Thanks for letting me stay a bit.

Drinking myself into a stupor isn't exactly a sport.

[Mostly he takes offense to how much that maneuver moves him around, because he's not exactly feeling the most stable right now.]

I'm used to being alone.

[Sheska doesn't remark on it, but sometimes she wonders if he isn't trying to make it into a sport. But now that he's settled, she won't ask him to move for a while.]

Doesn't mean you should have to be. You're a private person, but you like people. And you have a lot of people who care for you. Especially now that Mr. and Mrs. Potter are here.

[A sport, perhaps. He likes extremes, that has always been one of his many flaws and sometimes a strength.]

I know. I'll have to... I'm sorry, Sheska, I'm just a mess.

Don't apologize to me... Maybe to yourself, for putting yourself here, but honestly, now that I know you're all right - mostly - it's okay. Do you know what brought this on?

Whiskey. [He's a wise, wise man.]

[And she's patient.]

Why did you want the whiskey?

To get drunk. What does anyone want whiskey for?

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