honey, come over, the party's gone slower
and no one will tempt you, we know you got sober
there's orange juice in the kitchen, bought for the children
it's yours if you want it, we're just glad you could visit
Ara took a deep breath, his hands shaky at his sides. Normally he had Arvin next to him, a soothing presence unrelated to the bottle. He was half tempted to turn around and run, feeling the panic rise in his throat more and more the closer he got to the front door. But this was Anika's party. And Anika had sent him an owl asking him to come, so here he was.
He stepped through the door quietly, terrified for the smell of alcohol to assault his nose. He wasn't met with a particularly heavy scent, but it was still there. He wanted to puke, the way the smell made his fingers twitch and his eyes dart for the drink. He thought that Caius would be disappointed in him, that even after months sober he was still just as desperate for beer as he had been at the very beginning. He knew that wasn't true, though. Caius would never judge him for his faults.
feels like i've been ready for you to come home
for so long
that i didn't think to ask you where you'd gone
Ara felt like nothing had changed, in the worst way possible. Everyone was treating him the same way they had before the war. Before the drinking. Before Corvus. It was unusual, and unwelcome. He was not ready to be accepted back into society as an equal. He was an addict, and Anika was holding a glass of wine that he wanted to down faster than she could blink. And he was a murderer, and Athanasios was laughing at his jokes like he hadn't murdered one of his closest friends.
Anika did not ask him where he had gone for the months that he had disappeared. He knew from the faces of the party-goers that some had thought he died. He wondered how they thought he'd managed that. To die quietly. A Leatherwood never seemed to. He wished they could, wished he couldn't hear Corvus' voice echo in his ears every time someone said his name. Wished he didn't have the nagging voice of his father, "Brothers are forever, boys. Be good to each other. You're all you've got." a mantra that had been repeated his entire life, a mantra with the ghost of "I have lost him and with him, everything."
Ara missed Arvin, missed the way he'd allow Ara to grab onto his wrist and feel his heartbeat against his thumb. Missed the soothing quality it had. Missed the sound of his voice when he spoke, knowing Ara could not. "No, he doesn't drink." Hearing it from Arvin did not carry the implied, anymore. Hearing it from Arvin left him some dignity.
Hearing it from himself sounded sad. Small. "I don't drink." did not give the impression that he had self-control. Just that he had failed to before.
why'd you go? and you said, "mmm, hmm-mmm"
and you said...you said "my heart has changed and my soul has changed and my heart, and my heart"
that "my face has changed and i haven't drank in six months on the dot"
When the party had died down, and there were no longer people that Ara could not place a name to, Anika sat with him on the couch. She had a glass of orange juice, and held it out to him. "You haven't drank all night."
"Yeah, well.." Ara shrugged, attempting to play it off as a joke as he took the glass.
"How's it been?" Anika hummed softly, her dress looking perfectly ironed. The ring on her finger looking as though it had cost thousands of dollars.
Ara thought of Maeve, who did not know what he'd done. No one did. No one knew that he watched the light leave his brothers eyes, and felt the light leave the world with it.
