Don' think you ge' the idea of drinkin' ta ferget. I ssstill 'member, ssso bottom'sss up.
[He tilted his head back as he took another gulp, ending up stumbling back and sliding down to the ground against the rock formation. He sighs and lets the hand holding the bottle rest on one knee.]
[She's keeping up with you, even running after you when you stumble back.]
[Holiday sinks down to kneel in front of him, grabbing on to the bottle and trying to pull it away.]
Remember what?
[She's not really looking at him. She's just-... What the hell is doing?... Now, she, the woman ditched, needed to get him home safe or she'd hate herself later... more than she does now.]
[He doesn't let go of the bottle. He pulls it towards himself, trying to get her to let go and to take another swig of it.]
I--HIC!--love you, an' wha' do I do? I gave in ta sssome guy'sss threa'. [He pulls his knees closer to himself, hugging them tightly with his free hand.] Gi' up the besss thin' in my life 'caussse you didn' dessserve ta be down on my-my le'l. Didn' wanna le' you go, bu' didn' wanna pull you down or ge' you killt.
[He manages to swipe the bottle from her hands, but it's only because she's listening to him...]
Six...
[She scoots herself a little closer to him, putting a hand on his face, trying to get him to look at her. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, too. That they could work it out, get through this together, and just forget this entire mess. She really, really wanted to.]
[But tomorrow, when he's sober, he'll regret it. He'll regret telling her he loves her. He'll regret trying to make things work out between them. He'll regret it and tell her it was a mistake.]
[So, she swallowed the words away and closed her eyes, a lone tear slipping out, before she grabbed the bottle again, her mind a bit more steeled and... trying to be distant.]
[He shakes his head and pulls the bottle towards himself again, not wanting to surrender it.]
E'ry day I wan'ed ta be wi' you, an' I couldn'. I couldn'. No' fair ta you. [He hiccups and he tries to pour himself another shot directly into his mouth.]
[She's so happy that he finally shut up, but she doesn't move from her spot. She didn't know what to do with him...]
[If she did what she wanted to do, what she had to do, and made him stop drinking and got him home safe, he'll hate her when he's sober... if he remembered, that is.]
[Leaving him out in the desert wasn't an option, so she had to go with the first plan. Let him hate her later. It all worked out fine for her...]
Just stop drinking, okay? You'll kill yourself at this rate.
[He starts to shake as he holds in tears. He's already disgraced himself enough in front of her. She doesn't need to see him make an even bigger idiot out of himself.]
[He pulls away from her. He doesn't deserve that quiet strength of hers. The booze has made him see that. Filthy, disgusting creature that he is shouldn't be allowed to touch her.]
[He says nothing to her, simply taking another drink.]
I messst up. I can't be ha'y cuz sssomeone'sss alwaysss gonna ta' i' from me, ssso I tell mysssel' i' dozen't ma'er. [He doesn't even seem to notice she's there anymore. He pulls on the bottle, trying to bring it back to his lips for another swig.] Maysss i' easss'er when i' comesss apar'...bu' no' thisss time.
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Don' think you ge' the idea of drinkin' ta ferget. I ssstill 'member, ssso bottom'sss up.
[He tilted his head back as he took another gulp, ending up stumbling back and sliding down to the ground against the rock formation. He sighs and lets the hand holding the bottle rest on one knee.]
[He's clearly miserable.]
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[Holiday sinks down to kneel in front of him, grabbing on to the bottle and trying to pull it away.]
Remember what?
[She's not really looking at him. She's just-... What the hell is doing?... Now, she, the woman ditched, needed to get him home safe or she'd hate herself later... more than she does now.]
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[He doesn't let go of the bottle. He pulls it towards himself, trying to get her to let go and to take another swig of it.]
I--HIC!--love you, an' wha' do I do? I gave in ta sssome guy'sss threa'. [He pulls his knees closer to himself, hugging them tightly with his free hand.] Gi' up the besss thin' in my life 'caussse you didn' dessserve ta be down on my-my le'l. Didn' wanna le' you go, bu' didn' wanna pull you down or ge' you killt.
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Six...
[She scoots herself a little closer to him, putting a hand on his face, trying to get him to look at her. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, too. That they could work it out, get through this together, and just forget this entire mess. She really, really wanted to.]
[But tomorrow, when he's sober, he'll regret it. He'll regret telling her he loves her. He'll regret trying to make things work out between them. He'll regret it and tell her it was a mistake.]
[So, she swallowed the words away and closed her eyes, a lone tear slipping out, before she grabbed the bottle again, her mind a bit more steeled and... trying to be distant.]
Six, we need to go home.
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E'ry day I wan'ed ta be wi' you, an' I couldn'. I couldn'. No' fair ta you. [He hiccups and he tries to pour himself another shot directly into his mouth.]
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[She pulls the bottle back towards her, her voice holding more force than before... even though she looks just as sad and torn as before.]
Please stop.
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Why? Don' wanna 'member.
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[Instead, she just ends up biting her bottom lip and leaning forward until her forehead touches his shoulder.]
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[She's warmth and safety and everything he doesn't usually allow himself. He wants it. He needs it.]
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[If she did what she wanted to do, what she had to do, and made him stop drinking and got him home safe, he'll hate her when he's sober... if he remembered, that is.]
[Leaving him out in the desert wasn't an option, so she had to go with the first plan. Let him hate her later. It all worked out fine for her...]
Just stop drinking, okay? You'll kill yourself at this rate.
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[He pulls away from her. He doesn't deserve that quiet strength of hers. The booze has made him see that. Filthy, disgusting creature that he is shouldn't be allowed to touch her.]
[He says nothing to her, simply taking another drink.]
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[Then, her hand flies out to the bottle again, her hand moving over his that's wrapped around the neck.]
Six, please. Please. You need to stop.
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[He doesn't let go of the bottle.]
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[She can't help but think that these roles should be reversed. The only thing he had to forget was what he willingly done.]
Please, Six. This isn't worth it.
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