𝐈 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐑𝐚𝐫𝐥

11

Ron let out a hum as he got back into the clothing store him, and Carl had taken over. Carl was sitting on the floor reading a book all by himself, in peace without Ron annoying him at all. "Where's the booze?" Ron asked, looking around. "By your bag." Carl muttered, and Ron hummed a quick thank you before heading over to the backpack and grabbing the bottle. A third of it was gone. 

"You sure you don't want any?" A slightly drunk Ron asked Carl, who shook his head. "What you're doing right now is fucking depressing." Carl sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. "You'll just get drunk and fuck things up, you know that." He continued his protest. "You're free to join me in that. I won't fuck shit up, I'll just drown my problems in the bottle for tonight, deal with it tomorrow."

The whole explanation was shitty in Carl's mind, it made absolutely no sense. Why the hell did Ron feel the need to get drunk right now? There was no point. "Whatever." He dropped it, focusing on the book.

A while went by, the two sat there in silence. Ron drank his alcohol, Carl read in peace. Then it seemed to kick in, and Ron began feeling restless. "Meh." He groaned. "Can you put the book away?" He whined, sliding closer to Carl. "Why?" Carl asked, looking up from the book. "Because I asked you too, let's talk."

"No."

Ron slid even closer; their shoulders were touching at this point. The blonde male leaned his head into Carl's. "What the hell are you doing?" He asked, leaning back slightly. "Craving your attention." Ron grinned, eyes meeting Carl's eye. "You're being so weird." Carl was holding back laughter. 

"Ok." Ron answered, blinking innocently. "Do you have anyone back in Alexandria?" He mumbled, twisting slightly, it made him loose his balance even if he was sitting, and it made his head fall from Carl's shoulder down to his lap. Carl felt surprised, both at the question and at the weird contact that Ron craved. 

"No, I'm-" Carl paused, deciding to not say more than that. "Are you ok? You're just... Really touchy." He asked, and Ron sighed. "I don't know, it just feels easy with you. I never was this touchy before, even if I was a little you know. . . Drunk?" Ron spoke in a choppy way; he was clearly quite drunk. "You just make me want to like... Er- I want to hug you and stuff, you're just- just... uh, cuddly." Ron lifted his gaze to the roof and squeezed the air with his hands.

"But... But I- I wont of course. I'm drunk you're not. It feels bad for both of us if-" As Ron spoke Carl grabbed the bottle of alcohol from his side, dropping the book down on the floor next to him. Within a few seconds Carl was drowning himself in the alcohol, chugging down what was rest of it. "Woah." Run hummed as Carl dried his mouth into his sleeve.

"That tasted like shit." The brunette mumbled, as Ron sat up from his lap. "Are you hinting something?" He asked, in confusion, pointing at himself and then at Carl. "I'm not drunk yet." Carl hummed. "I'll tell you when I feel it." He muttered. "You've never been drunk, have you?" Ron asked, sliding closer to Carl so the two were now sitting next to each other awkwardly.

"No." Carl mumbled. "And you just chugged that, on an empty stomach?" Ron looked at the male next to him, who was staring at the floor. "Yeah, but you haven't eaten ether." 

"You're right." Ron shrugged, leaning his head back. "Just wait, it'll kick in pretty quick." He sighed. "I- if anything, like. . . Happens, or we do something. We can blame it on the alcohol, right?" Carl looked at Ron now, who nodded. Carl was beginning to talk sloppily; the liquid had begun its journey. "Great." The brunette muttered, taking off his hat and shoving it away.

Carl took a deep breath in before twisting around, swinging over Ron. The brunette was now sitting on top of his, with his hands on the blonde's shoulders. "Hi." Ron slowly brought his hand up Carl's body, leaving it holding onto his neck. "Take off your shirt." Carl commanded, and Ron did as he was told, slowly but surely raising his arms until His left arm ached, he couldn't lift it further. "Can you help? My left arm is fucked from an accident." He asked, and Carl quickly got the shirt off of him, pausing at the sight of Ron's shirtless body.