Reliant ~ [John Soap MacTavish]

XXXII. A Point For Effort

The alcohol in my system causes a comfortable warmth, blending seamlessly with the ambient chatter and laughter filling the living room. The dim light casts a cozy glow, creating an intimate atmosphere at the small get-together.

I find myself nestled between Keegan and Soap, their conversation with the others becoming a distant background as I get lost in my own thoughts.

I take a sip from the drink in my hand, the familiar burn of alcohol further enhancing the sense of ease settling over me. My thoughts dance between the two men sitting on either side of me.

Soap's laughter cuts through the haze of my thoughts, and I turn to him, a faint smile playing on my lips in response to the sound. "You with us, Alex?" he asks, the smile remaining.

"Yeah," I force myself to smile just a bit wider. "I'm good. I'll just get another drink," I say as I stand up, holding up my nearly empty glass to show him.

"Don't get lost," he grins, his hand brushing my thigh as I stand in front of him.

My skin tingles beneath his touch and I swallow the lump immediately forming in my throat.

Fucking hell.

Quickly heading over to the kitchen before I do something stupid in front of everyone, I grab the first bottle of liquor I can find. I have no idea what it is, but as I hold my glass up underneath my nose I can feel the alcohol burn even then.

"Jesus," I wince, mumbling as I take a sip.

Back hitting the wall, I overlook the rest of the group. They're clearly all enjoying themselves, some seeming more intoxicated than others. Ace is joking around with Gaz, while Keegan is talking to Price who sits at the opposite side of the room. The two of them are practically yelling, and the sight is enough to cause my mouth to curl up into a smile. Though the smile immediately fades as I'm reminded of the facts again.

I feel like an outsider.

I am an outsider.

"Planning to make a run for it, are you?" Ghost appears in my peripheral vision and I instinctively turn to look at him.

He places his glass down, reaching for the same bottle I had just grabbed. He fills his glass, and I watch his movements with a subtle curiosity. My eyes linger on his movements, practically feeling too out of it to respond.

Not too drunk. Just too... distant.

"What... And go back to that hell hole I came from?" I chuckle sarcastically, immediately regretting the words.

Don't give away anything. Come on.

A breath, something close to a laugh, comes from his throat. "Then what is your plan.. after all of this?" He glances at me, and I turn to meet his gaze, my expression carefully neutral.

I lean against the wall, mirroring his casual stance. "Survive, I suppose."

He chuckles, the sound carrying a hint of bitterness. "You don't have a plan?"

I take a sip of my drink, the burn of the alcohol providing a temporary distraction. "That's not what I said."

"Oh, so you just don't want to tell me."

"We're enemies, Simon Riley," I grin, my fingers wrapping around my glass just a little tighter as I examine his reaction.

Ghost nods, his gaze wandering over the counter where the glass bottles stand. He doesn't seem fazed by my choice of words. "We're not so different, you and I. Just different paths."