5. Seeking Solace
“Arthur?” you called out.
When you arrived at Arthur’s house to study, the door was open. This worried you. What if someone had broken in? Was everyone alright? You took a few hesitant steps inside with your fists clenched at your sides. Your heart was pounding. You jumped at the sound of something metallic skittering along the wooden floor, and you realized with some relief that it was just an empty can. Looking around, you realized there were several empty cans littering the floor as well as a few glass bottles.
“Is anyone home?” you called out to the seemingly empty house. You ventured into the kitchen – where the trail of empty containers led you to Allistor sitting on the floor with his back leaning up against the wall. His head was resting on his knees and he seemed to be muttering drunkenly to himself. Out of worry, you hurried to his side, slinking around the trash on the floor. You kneeled down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder gently.
“Allistor? Are you okay?” you said as you shook him gently. He groaned. “Allistor?” you repeated. He looked up groggily, his eyes scanning across the room before landing on you.
“What’re ya doin’ here, lassie?” he said/slurred.
“I was supposed to be studying with Arthur….”
“He went to run an errand. Come back later.”
“Oh. Um… are you okay? Like, are you upset or something?”
“Heh,” he laughed dryly, “You wouldn’t understand.” He brought a flask that was sitting next to him up to his lips and took a few gulps. You didn’t make a motion to move. Your worry for his health rooted you in place. You watched his Adam’s apple bob with each gulp and watched a few drips of the liquid – which you were now more than a little sure was alcohol – run down the outline of his jaw and down the pale skin of his neck.
“You shouldn’t drink when you’re upset and want to find comfort. Then it becomes habit to do it when you’re upset.”
“It’s a tad late for that lecture.”
“Um, I may not understand what you’re going through, like you said, but it’d be nice to get it off your chest anyway, right?” He took another swig from the flask.
“Get comfortable then. It’s a lot to say.”
“I’ve got time,” you said with a sympathetic smile, happy to be able to provide some form of solace. He started jabbering on all the while drinking. As his sobriety level continued to drop, he started to ramble about other things rather than what started him drinking in the first place. It was starting to get a bit amusing at this point.
“You’re completely out of it, Allistor,” you said to him.
“I’m not,” he slurred out, “I can hold ma liquor better ‘an anyone.”
“Sure, you can,” you said as you watched him resume the original position you found him in. You grabbed a few trash bags and began cleaning up around the kitchen and entrance area – closing the door so no one else would happen to walk right in as you had. By the end of it all you had two full trash bags.
“Ungh,” Allistor groaned out from his position on the floor. He looked up and saw that all of the bottles and cans had been cleaned up. You were bent over one of the trash bags, tying the opening up. Allistor got up and walked/stumbled up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You squeaked in surprise. He tightened his grip and nuzzled his face into your hair.
“Allistor,” you said in a wary tone as you placed your hands on his arms, trying to gently pry them off.
“No,” he said as held you even closer, “I want you.” You stiffened at his words. You shimmied in his grip until you were facing him. Placing your hands on his chest, you began to push, but he just held fast and buried his face in the crook of your neck. Your face which had lit up in a blush the moment he wrapped you in an embrace turned into a much deeper shade of red you were sure. Especially when he pressed his lips against your ear and began to whisper.
“You may be one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen, and I want you.” You shuddered against him in response to the tickling feeling of his breath on your ear.
“That’s sweet of you, Allistor, but your drunk and don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know what I’m saying. I’m saying I want to be with ye,” he said as he pressed your back up against one of the kitchen counters, sealing off any chances at escape. He held you like that for a while, seeming to – even in his drunken stupor – want to enjoy the moment. You could only stand there with your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage and your face feeling like it was going to burst into flames.
“Have ye had yer first kiss yet?” he asked. His accent was becoming more and more prominent it seemed. You frowned up in confusion.
“Yes, but why does that matter?” He chuckled a bit, his chest vibrating against you.
“Damn. I wanted it.” You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but you then found out that it didn’t matter. He placed a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips before slumping against you. He had passed out. You blinked a few times, unsure of what exactly had just happened. You maneuvered the two of you so you were sitting on the floor with your back against the counter and his head was resting in your lap. You looked at him. He was far more handsome with this peaceful expression rather than the upset, drunken, and mischievous ones you had seen when he was conscious. You sat there waiting for Arthur while absently running your hand through Allistor’s bright red hair, your lips and face still burning from the kiss. You weren’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that he wouldn’t remember any of this when he woke up.