1His eyes are clouded, his speech slurred, as usual. He smiles at me serenely, as though everything is fine and right and good in the word. Like he doesn't have a problem.
He's a genius. His plans are flawless, and some way or another, we always pull them off. He feels the liquor dull his pain, but I watch it dull his wits, his mind. It scares me. In moments like these, he's not the man I knew. Not the man I fell in love with. His misfortune changed him, naturally, but when he's sober, he's still Nate. Smart, quick witted, proud... He's still the man I love, but when he's drunk...
He smiles and offers me the flask for a sip. I take it and pour it down the nearest drain, ignoring him when he shouts in protest. He's not coordinated enough to fight me.
He pours poison down his throat on a daily basis, and I'm left to watch it kill him. His angry words can never hurt as much as knowing that I can't help him. He gets another drink, takes a sip, swallows. It burns my throat as it goes down, every swallow bringing about a new level of agony.