Teresa Robledo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hey_sexy_latte) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixwordstories2013-06-05 11:21 pm
hey_sexy_latte) wrote in sixwordstories2013-06-05 11:21 pm
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Contentedly reading while drinking some coffee.
I is helping my teacher aunt today. But now I run /o/
hey_sexy_latte
2013-06-07 10:36 am (UTC)(link)
"Well 'm-- not drunk now. And I -- untake the taking back. I-- I mean it, Al."
Even if she's not entirely sure he'll remember it.
"Did-- did you?"
Even if she's not entirely sure he'll remember it.
"Did-- did you?"
He won't. Not really. Not completely coherently. He'd probably think it was a dream.
But now they've each said it once sober. That's something.
"I meant it. I didn't-- mean t' say it but I meant it."
But now they've each said it once sober. That's something.
"I meant it. I didn't-- mean t' say it but I meant it."
It's something. A good enough basis, hopefully, for it to get to something more.
"Me, too, I suppose." A sigh as she leans her head back against the couch, "An' 's-- that okay?"
"Me, too, I suppose." A sigh as she leans her head back against the couch, "An' 's-- that okay?"
"Is it?"
His head hits the wall of the alley a little harder than he means it to, draws a tiny hiss of pain to his lips before his slurring words barrel on again.
"Last time-- I felt this way, she-- wound up dead." He, in fact, ended up killing her. That wasn't the thing to say now, and at least enough sobriety remained for him to feel that. "I don't-- 'm such a-- shitshow of a person, T. You could-- Y' should be loved by someone better."
His head hits the wall of the alley a little harder than he means it to, draws a tiny hiss of pain to his lips before his slurring words barrel on again.
"Last time-- I felt this way, she-- wound up dead." He, in fact, ended up killing her. That wasn't the thing to say now, and at least enough sobriety remained for him to feel that. "I don't-- 'm such a-- shitshow of a person, T. You could-- Y' should be loved by someone better."
"But I don't want someone better," said with a frown clear in her voice, "'s-- better is all relative, anyways. And I want t'love you."
Even if it's risky. Even if it's foolish.
Even if it's risky. Even if it's foolish.
Even his laugh is a little slurred, head rolling slightly to the side and scraping the phone with static for a second.
"So what, nn? We-- fuckin' deserve each other, is that it?"
Oddly nice thought.
"So what, nn? We-- fuckin' deserve each other, is that it?"
Oddly nice thought.
"'s not-- entirely about deserving, really." At least not the way she understood love, "But-- yeah. S'pose so, in a way."
He's still learning how she loves. He's still learning how he loves, frankly. His eyes squeeze shut, fighting for coherence he knows is slipping away from him.
"Then just-- why can't we? When we're-- sober and-- t'gether?"
"Then just-- why can't we? When we're-- sober and-- t'gether?"
"I dunno." Or, well, maybe she does. "'m-- scared, I guess. That you'll run if I tell you so properly."
It's hesitant, but maybe he won't remember this in the morning and it won't matter.
It's hesitant, but maybe he won't remember this in the morning and it won't matter.
Maybe he won't. That doesn't mean he won't be entirely frank and open right now.
"Yeah." She's not wrong, after all. "'s-- legit. Parta why you-- shoulda fallen in love with someone less... broke. In the heart-bit."
If he closes his eyes, it's a little easier to murmur the next words.
"I tried to, y'know? T'night. My bags are-- all packed. But I... just made it t' the bar on your corner."
"Yeah." She's not wrong, after all. "'s-- legit. Parta why you-- shoulda fallen in love with someone less... broke. In the heart-bit."
If he closes his eyes, it's a little easier to murmur the next words.
"I tried to, y'know? T'night. My bags are-- all packed. But I... just made it t' the bar on your corner."
She can't help the way her stomach drops at his words, and she has to sit down properly, wind knocked out of her for a moment.
"Y-yeah? What-- stopped you?"
"Y-yeah? What-- stopped you?"
"You." And he's drunk, yes, the words slurring from his lips without proper form, but the thoughts are still clear in his head. "I just-- thought about livin' my life without ever... seeing you again. Without knowing... how you were. Bein' able to kiss you goodnight."
Her grip tightens slightly around the phone, and it takes her a bit to get all the words out, "And you-- really would've missed that? 'f you left?"
"I can't do it." Which still felt painful to admit. Still clenched his chest tight and squeezed his eyes shut painfully tight. "I can't-- not be here anymore. Can't be withou' you like that."
"And I don't-- want you to go." She really doesn't, even though it kills her a little that he tried, "So-- please don't."
"Lemme come see you." The stumble as he pushes to his feet bears adding, "I-- know 'm drunk, but-- fuck, I just want t' say it-- t' you proper, Teresa."
She hesitates, but it's only a moment before she answers, "All right. Will you be able to get here okay on your own?"
"Yes'm." Although he does then drop his phone, so that's not encouraging. But it doesn't matter. Not when he can stumble his way back down the street, fumble out some cash at corner shop for a bottle of water to start sobering himself up a little.
Tap on her door with the intoxicated knowledge she doesn't want him to leave.
Tap on her door with the intoxicated knowledge she doesn't want him to leave.
She'll pace a little worriedly, down half a glass of wine for herself to ease her nerves while she waits. When she opens the door, she can't help but move to pull him into a hug, lips fumbling a little tentatively against his cheek.
Edited 2013-06-11 04:21 (UTC)
"I love you."
And fuck but it feels good to say, to actually murmur against her hair as he wraps long arms painfully tight around her waist. She's warm, and she's real, and she's not at all the ghost he thought she was. She's more. She's better. She's what was missing in a hole he didn't know he had until he met her.
"I-- need you. I want t'-- love you and protect you and it t'-- be okay that I feel this way."
And fuck but it feels good to say, to actually murmur against her hair as he wraps long arms painfully tight around her waist. She's warm, and she's real, and she's not at all the ghost he thought she was. She's more. She's better. She's what was missing in a hole he didn't know he had until he met her.
"I-- need you. I want t'-- love you and protect you and it t'-- be okay that I feel this way."
"It's okay," she murmurs into his shoulder, before her head lifts to press a kiss against his neck, his cheek, his temple, "It's-- okay to feel that way. I-- want th'same thing."
The kisses are reassuring. The words against his skin are reassuring. Having her close again is best of all.
"'m gonna... keep goin', then."
"'m gonna... keep goin', then."
"Good," she murmurs, leaning back to kiss him properly.
Kissing her drunk isn't quite perfect. Kissing her drunk tastes more like whiskey than Teresa, and that's just not as good. "An' you-- love me in spite 'f-- tonight?"
"I do," she answers, her forehead pressing back a little, gently, against his, "'m not sure if I could stop, really."
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