Alice In Borderland OneShots

Karube - ♣️

I'm at work.

Cleaning tables. Restocking alcohol. Sweeping the floors. Serving customers.

My co-worker isn't here with me today — they had something else to attend to. So, I'm left at
the bar at eleven o'clock at night to deal with my boss. Alone.

Luckily, a party was hosted. There's way more people here than usual. And this isn't a huge bar? So I'm surprised my boss is even allowing so many people? Then again, the more people who buy drinks: the more money you'll make.

I decided 'why not have a few? You might as well? Everyone else is partying and your boss isn't up your ass for once.'

So I ended up allowing my inner thoughts win. I drank. More than I intended.

About 8 1/2 bottles to be exact.

Look, I don't know how it happened.

I was having so much fun. Not with any other girl or something if that's what you're thinking. No, no, no.

I talked with a few guys there — ended up punching a guy in the face for being sexist — and had fun for the most part? I'm pretty easy to get along with as long as you don't piss me off.

It was time to go home. Home. I couldn't even think straight. Where is home? Do I call an uber? My house is only...uh. Like 10 minutes away? It's not too far...I think. I can't even remember my own name. All I know: is that I wanna go the fuck home.

So I did. The buddies I partied with that night told me they could drive me — but they were just as intoxicated as me, and I'm not that dumb.

I got home about thirteen minutes later. I was a few minutes off...mostly because of how stumbled I was walking.

I pushed open the door. Something seemed...off.

My head was pounding...it was spinning...I'm pretty sure I have a migraine. Who the hell knows. I'm in pain. I don't feel well. I want to get in my bed.

....She walked in.

My girlfriend. She walked in. In the room. In the presence of me.

I glanced around...it wasn't as clean as it was when I left.

Clothes all over the floor... I didn't even stop and think to notice that she had been doing the laundry. Or how there's dishes in the sink. I didn't stop and think that she was putting the dishes away and cleaning them.

I was pissed off. It only took the slightest problem while I was drunk. I didn't like how the place was a mess. It wasn't a mess. She was cleaning it. But I didn't stop to think about that.

What I should've said, was: "What were you doing, baby? There's stuff everywhere?" And I would've chuckled after saying said sentence.

But what came out of my mouth instead was:

"What the fuck is all this?!"

She looked confused. She hadn't even gotten the chance to say 'hello' to me yet. She hasn't walked over and hugged me...or kisses me on the lips like she usually does. Why?

Because I didn't give her the chance to.

"What...?" My girl mumbled in a soft tone, her head down while she messed with her hands nervously. "What are you talking about, darling?"

Her voice is making my headache even worse.

That's drunk me talking. I would've never said that while sober. I'm in a bad mood.

"What are you—" I cut her off and walked over, clenching my jaw as I stared down at her; eyes blazing with fury.

"It's a fucking mess! Clothes everywhere?! The dishes are still in the sink?! Our bed isn't made! The blankets are all over the couch?! It's a fucking pigsty!" I shouted, my veins nearly bulging out of my neck.

I criticized every fucking thing about this house. I had every right. I left this house nearly spotless and now It's a mess?! What could she possibly have been doing?!

Reorganizing stuff. To clean stuff: you've gotta mess it up a little first. It wasn't spotless when I left — that's drunk me talking; believing I know everything, which, I don't.

"I— Baby— What...?" Her voice cracked and her eyes crinkled. She looked so upset. Mortified. Like I'm insane. Me? The insane one?! She's the one who fucking ruined everything.

Tonight is the worst night of my life. I can't believe I drank so much.

"Fuck, my head hurts." I uttered to myself, rubbing my jaw with an exhausted hand.

"I'm sorry, love..Would you like me to get you medicin—"

I slammed my fist on the table and shot a glare at her. "Stop! Just fucking stop! Get the hell out of my goddamn face! I can't stand to look at you!"

And that was it. I broke her.

I watched tears swell up in her eyes and she nodded. I knew her throat was closing up — she was trying not to bawl. But she failed. She bit her bottom lip nervously and nodded softly. Uttering: 'okay' in the softest tone I've ever heard.

Thank fuck she's out of my sight.

I can't do this. I'm assuming that she's sleeping in our bed. And I'm left on this fucking couch. With blankets everywhere. Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. I'm expecting her to clean this fucking place tomorrow.

That's the thing. I didn't stop to realize that she was cleaning the place. And that she was already planning on finishing up tomorrow. I'm just being an asshole because I'm drunk.

I don't give a shit. My head hurts. I can't even remember my name. I need to go to bed.

So I did.

And I didn't remember anything the next morning.

But she sure did.