Star Beings: Dawn

Vodka

I can either be level headed or have no head at all. But now, it seems I'm stuck somewhere in between. Sometimes I'm sane, other times I'm not. Why? Why can't I just be normal?
"Because you're broken," I mumble to myself, "You're a broken toy that no one wants. A shattered mirror that everyone is gonna hesitate to even get near because of the glass shards surrounding you. You're Anaideia fucking Timor..."
I curl further into myself, my legs digging into my chest.
"The girl who tried so hard to please the monsters she looked up to that she broke herself in the process and almost took the whole world with her."

"Anai?" I hear Leigh's tired voice call out.
Not now. Why does she have to wake up now?
"Anai, are you- Oh dear."
"Go back to bed," I groan, "I'm fine." But my voice betrays me, the damned thing.
I hear Leigh sigh, followed by footsteps into and then out of the bedroom. She sinks down next to me, and I look up to meet her deep brown eyes. She is holding two bottles, one of which is definitely wine. I can't tell what the other is.
"What-" "I can't guarantee this will make everything better, in fact it may make it worse. But on the plus size you won't remember what upset you tomorrow."
"You have shit coping mechanisms," I grumble, taking the wine from her hands. Leigh laughs and pops the cap off of the other bottle.
"I never said they were good, Ani. but they sure as hell work," she says, more to herself than me, before taking a long drink of whatever the hell is in that bottle.
We sit there for a while, getting less and less sober. I finally figure out what Leigh is drinking by the time half of it is gone.
"Is that straight fuckin vodka?"
"Sure as hell is."
"You scare me."
"I should."
I laugh and then lean my head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. This feels surreal. I'm 21, had a mental breakdown over crows at least twenty minutes ago, the girl I probably like more than I'll admit is sitting next to me, and we're both drunk as fuck... wait a minute.
What?
No, Leigh is just a friend. I'm just drunk is all. That's it.
But then she grabs my hand. I turned to look at her. She smiles softly, her curly blue hair falling over her shoulders in two thick, beautiful waterfalls.
"You're really pretty, y'know."
"So are you, what's your point?"
Leigh giggles.
"You think I'm pretty?"
For a moment, my face is  as red as my hair. "What are you doing, Timor?" the tiniest voice in the very back of my mind screams. It's quickly silenced with another sip of wine.
"What if I do?"
Leigh only laughs harder.
"I'd probably say you're crazy. I'm probably crazy for thinking the same!"
"That you're pretty?"
"No dipshit, that you're pretty!"
The puzzle pieces click together. The looking flushed. The nervous demeanor. The not wanting to share a bed. She likes me. She actually likes me.
Why the hell would she do a thing like that?
"You're more than just pretty. You're smart, and a little scary, and just... wow."
I feel a dopey grin crawl its way onto my face. Yet that little voice refuses to quiet itself, and deep down I know it's right. I like Leigh, I really do. But I'm not stable enough for a relationship and if I hurt her...
Gods above, I'd kill myself.
"Leigh I...."
I can't even look her in the eyes.
"Why don't you go back to bed before you say something you regret?"
"Did I do something wrong?"
Creation, her damned voice... It's going to fucking break me.
"Leigh, please. You're drunk. Go get some sleep."
She doesn't move, only scoots closer and leans her head on my shoulder.
"We're both fucked, aren't we?"
"Leigh-"
"I can't go a week without getting drunk, you're a war criminal and for some damn reason I think I have a crush on you. How fuckin outrageous is that, eh? Y'know, I never woulda thought you'd give two shits about me. Then again, I never woulda thought you'd give two shits about anyone that wasn't yourself. But... you do. You care about me. You care about your uncle, your aunt, and your cousins... You're a real mystery Anaideia Timor."
I want to pull away, but my body stays still as a statue, one arm around Leigh as she buries her face in my chest. Don't say it. Please, Leigh, don't say it.
"Maybe that's why I like you so much."
Dammit all to the deepest pits of hell.