Hiraeth

08

Leo stands in the kitchen throwing empty and half empty alcohol bottles across the room, shattering on the living room wall. I don't think he notices me because he doesn't stop.

"Leo?" I ask frightened from all of the noise

He ignores me and continues to throw the bottles.

"Leo, stop." I say trying to stay calm

He continues.

"Leo!" I start to yell, "Please stop!"

When he doesn't listen to me, I run over to him in panic, and grab his wrists.

"Leo...please. Calm down" I look into his eyes but he just stares past my head. His lips were chapped and a darker shade then it normally appeared to be. His eyes were bloodshot and tired. He was having a hard time keeping it open. The normal emerald green color that was so easy to find in a crowded room, disappeared. The room smells of whiskey and tequila from the broken bottles, but he himself, smells like a mix of different substances.

I can't decipher his emotions. His eyes look filled with hatred, but I notice something else lingering past the hatred. Something I haven't seen before from him. He looked like he was aching.

A cigarette is pressed between his teeth, barley hanging on due to the lack of his hands. Around us, are countless different alcohol bottles, and a bag of what I can only assume to be narcotics, which would explain his smell.

He slowly moves his eyes to meet mine which are still observing our surroundings trying to figure out what happened.

He doesn't say anything but releases himself from my grip and stumbles towards the wall, unable to keep his balance. He trips over his own foot and falls to the ground.

"Leo!" I say running to his new location not worried about the broken glass on the floor.

He takes the cigarette that was in his mouth with one hand, and brings it down to his other hand. He flips over his wrist, just like he did with mine at the bar, and starts to move the cigarette closer to his skin.

"What are you doing!" I yell in panic and drop next to him. I grab the cigarette out of his hands, just barley before it touched his skin, and put it out.

"I'm paying for my actions." He slurred, raising his intoxicated eyes to meet mine. It is the first sentence he has said to me all night, and I don't even know what it means. What actions? And how could they be so bad that he feels the need to burn himself?

"How much have you had to drink Leo?" I ask. But I already know the answer. I don't need an exact amount to know it is way more than usual, and with the fact that he has been taking narcotics, it can only mean worse.

"I just needed the distraction." He spoke in a quiet and sorrow voice, "It's the only way to get them to stop"

He isn't looking at me anymore. He is looking at the wall ahead of us, but I am looking at him. And this is not the Leo I have met. The guy I know is angry all the time. He doesn't think twice before doing something reckless. He sleeps with every girl on the street. He is the guy everyone fears. He is my personal worst nightmare.

But I am looking at a completely different person. Someone I haven't met before. Someone who has been hiding underneath his tough shell. His face is no long showing any emotion of anger. It's solely showing pain and regret. His eyes couldn't stay in one spot, almost like the wall in front of him was playing out a movie and he was the viewer. His eyebrows creased together like whatever he was watching was the one thing he didn't want to see. He wanted to escape it but couldn't.