Liquid Confessions

"I'm not drunk, you know." Clink.

"I know." Clink.

"I'm not." Pout.

"I know."


Smile. "I love you."

Pause- "No, you don't, dear."

"I do." Bigger smile. "I looooooooooove you."

Sad smile. "You do, do you?"


He extricated the glass carefully from her hand and placed it on the highest shelf of the bookshelf they were standing next to. Well, he was standing, at least. She was sprawled in a fairly undignified manner against him, her silky dress unkempt and barely decent. Her luminous lavender eyes bore into his as she gazed solemnly up at him, captivating him.

Humor. "Why do you love me?"

"I haaaaaaaaaaaate you." Grin. Two rows of perfect, pearly white teeth.

"Why do you hate me?"

Matter of fact. "You tried to kill her."

Pain- but just barely. "I was testing her. And she's quite alive right now, dear."

"You let her stay with him."

Sad. "It's not something I had control over."

"You made me live." Accusing.

He pulled her up as she began to slip, scooping her into his arms as she pushed futilely against his chest, trying, as she always did, to push him away. He deposited her on the couch and started to undo the complicated straps on her heels.

"That feels good."

"I'm glad."

Silence. Then- "You brought me here."

"Yes, I did."

"You brought me here after-"

"Yes, I did."

Pause. A single droplet fell, as if in slow motion, and coursed down a pale cheek.

"Diamond ring? Gold ring?"

Sigh. "Yes."

"Was she beautiful?"

"Yes." Pain.

Clearly. "I'm not drunk, you know."

He pulled off the second heel and began to massage her feet, tracing his fingers along the harsh red lines the shoes had left. She jerked away abruptly.

"I'm not."

"I know."

"Beautiful and mine. Mine." Mutter.

"No, dear."

She glared at him as she propped herself up as best she could, shaky arms unable to sustain her frail body.

Command. "Lie down."

"No." Collapse.

"Are you alright?"


Muffled. "Why did you do it?"

"Your life is worth more than that."

Muffled. "No. More wine, please."

It would be best for her now, as sad as that sounded. He obliged.

"A glass?"


He watched her push herself slowly into a sitting position and bring the bottle to her mouth, watched her tip the bottle and the dark red liquid being to flow, watched her pale red lips slip to a side, watched half the stream miss her mouth and watched her choke. He grabbed the bottle from her hands and patted her harshly on the back.

"Never mind." Mutter.

Slap. "What if I said…"

Sharp look.

"What if I said… that I love you!"


"I love you and I love you and the other thing too."

"You hate me, right?"

Laugh. "Yes!"

"And you love her, right?"

Dark. "Yes."

"So why do you love me?"

Pause. "Chocolate."

Faint smile. "I was generous with the chocolate, those couple of days."


"Generous with those, too."

Softly. "Beautiful. She's aaaaaaaaalways beautiful. With him."

"With him." Sadly.

She looked at him and began to open her mouth, the look in her large eyes inscrutable. She leaned forward-

And the contents of her dinner sat in a puddle on his lap.

Wiping mouth. "Sorry."

"I'm gonna go change. You stay right here, okay?"


He rushed out of the room, pulling off his pants as he went. It had soaked through to his boxers, and he peeled those off also as he hopped to his dresser and pulled out a fresh pair. His dirty clothes were left in a heap on the floor as he struggled into his new pair of pants, pulling them haphazardly over his clean boxers.

He couldn't leave her there alone. God only knew how many sharp things were in that room, and he didn't stop her once just to let her do it again.

As he stumbled back into the room, he saw the back of her head, her head of dramatic black curls facing the other direction, and watched it collapse sideways onto the couch.


He bounded over the couch and grabbed her hand.

"What?" Irritable.

Flustered. "Sorry, sorry." Relief. Peace. Relax. Drop.



Her hand reached out, hand feeling in the air. He put out his hand in the path of hers, and she grabbed it, pulling it to her.

"Warm." Content.

"You're cold."

"Warm now."

Smile. "Why do you want my hand, anyway? I thought you hated me."

"I love you."


Eyes flutter open. "I'm not drunk."

Her eyes pierced his, and his gray eyes softened under her gaze. Within the desperation and the pain and the tears, there was a glimmer of hope.

That was all he ever wanted.

Throughout his care of her, during her darkest hours, that was all he hoped for.

"You know, don't you?" Faint desperation.

Softly. "I know, my love."

Author's Note: Well, well, it's been a while! But I finally got bored/depressed enough in the middle of the night to crank this out (literally the middle of the night, around 2ish)… hope you liked it. I was experimenting with a different style; if you've read my other stuff, tell me which you like better, or what you thought of this one. I'll try to write more, now that I'm out of school (and out of high school forever!) Review please?