Obsessions Embrace

Chapter 1.

I woke up in my bed, my legs intertwined in the blankets. I reached over to the bedside table and tried to grab my phone, failing as it fumbled to the floor. I sighed, sat up in bed as my head pounded, and shifted to the edge of the bed to pick up my phone. I tapped my phone and winced as the screen flashed to life and revealed my notifications. 2 notifications from Uber Eats, and 99+ notifications from Ruthiel. I groaned again, throwing my phone back onto the sheets. Not ready for his bullshit this morning. I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled out of my bedroom, using the wall as a support.

I guided myself down the stairs and into the kitchen, my eyes widening to the mess awaiting me. Empty alcohol bottles littered the table, and the sink overflowed with dirty plates—a stark reminder of last night's pity party. Cleaning could wait. I glanced towards the living room, considering catching up on the news, but the chaos extended beyond the kitchen. The living room was in even worse shape. Wanting to watch TV would inevitably mean having to clean up, and my body wasn't warmed up for that yet.

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I was awoken by an abrupt, sharp knock on the door. I moved my dark hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ears. When did I fall asleep? I groaned, slowly pulling myself together and studying my surroundings. I was pushed up against the couch, on the floor. I stood up before my head started pounding sharply and I stumbled back on the armrest, clutching my head tightly. The person at the door knocked again, clearly impatient. I wasn't expecting anyone. I hesitated, but the persistent knocking grew louder. Reluctantly, I shuffled over and opened the door to find Ruthiel standing there, concern etched across his face.

"Kayla! Kayla, please. We need to talk," he said, his voice a mixture of frustration and worry.

I sighed, stepping aside to let him in, knowing this conversation was inevitable. "Why are you here, Ruthiel?" I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.

"I've been trying to reach you for days. You can't just shut me out," he replied, his eyes scanning the chaotic mess around them, not even attempting to hide his disgust.

"You broke up with me. Remember? Or do you have short-term memory?" I crossed my arms and scoffed at his behavior, moving in front of him to hide the embarrassing mess from him.

Ruthiel scoffed, his eyes darting back to meet mine. He reached out and touched a lock of my hair moving it behind my ears. "I was wrong, I'm sorry." He softened his tone. "And judging by the look of things, I can't stand back and watch either.

I took his hand and moved it away from me, starting to rile up. "You didn't seem wrong. Would you like me to remind you?"

Ruthiel crossed his hands, his facial expression shifting to one of annoyance. "Kayla, don't."

I took a step back, fighting back tears of sadness or anger. "A helpless alcoholic, a sot, an obsessed, jealous, bitch."

Ruthiel took a defensive step towards me, firmly grabbing my shoulders. "Kayla, please. I still love you. Your drinking was just, a bit too much for me." He forced a chuckle, his grip still tight on me.

"I can help you, we can get through this together with the help of a therapist."

I struggled in his grip, on the verge of snapping at him. I knew he was right, that I was in a big slump, that I was an alcoholic, a sot, a jealous obsessed bitch. I just didn't want to accept the overwhelming fact that I did need help.
I grabbed onto his forearm, piercing my nails into his skin hard. "Ruthiel, get out."

He stood his ground, wincing at the pain but not letting go. "Kayla, please. You know I'm right."

I shook my head, pressing my nails into his skin harder. "A person in their right mind wouldn't abandon someone they love because of their habits." I won't cry.

He scoffed letting go, looking clearly annoyed. "Coming from you?"

I turned away from him and looked up at the ceiling, I won't cry.

Ruthiel chuckled softly. "Fine. Don't come crawling back to me when you finally realize I'm right."

A couple of seconds later I heard the slam of my front door, signaling that he was gone. I let go of a breath I didn't realize I was holding before tears started streaming down my face.

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My fingers clanked across the laptop as it roared to life, showing all the notifications I missed, and the many missed calls. I ignored them, clicking on Google and searching up Alcoholic treatments. I scrolled through the many options, therapy, hobbies, and distractions. How do I fix a distraction, with another distraction? Drinking brought me to another world, taking the stress off the world off my shoulders. It gave me brief happiness. But at the same time, drinking destroyed me. It made me lose a relationship, friendships, and my job. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I scrolled through the many options before shutting my laptop down and slamming it shut. I needed air, I needed to breathe. I walked over to the door and slipped on some sneakers, walking outside and closing the door behind me. I glanced out across the street, watching a dad pushing a pram and holding a bubbling toddler's hand. I smiled at him but he didn't smile back. I walked slowly down the street. I didn't know where I was going. I had no money on me, and not much to spend. I was dressed lightly in a black T-shirt and jeans, the same clothing I was wearing yesterday. My hair was in an effortless ponytail and a couple of locks stuck onto the sweat on my face. I probably reeked too. But that's Ok. I'll just not go close to anyone, and I won't talk to anyone so they don't smell my breath. At least I'm outside.

I found myself outside a bar. My mind and body wanted to go, to drown my worries in the liquid I know so much. But you have no money. I could get someone to buy me a drink. You're pathetic. I know. I scoffed and scratched the back of my head so hard I'm sure I left a mark. My feet carried meaning away from the bar, each step feeling heavier than the last. I didn't know where I was going, only that I needed to keep moving.

My feet dragged me further down the street as I turned a sharp corner, almost colliding with a tall dark haired man. He stared at me, his piercing blue eyes deep— like they held a story. I took a step back to compose myself.

"Are you alright?" He had an accent. It sounded Italian.

I smiled softly, nodding. "Yeah, sorry I wasn't watching where I was going."

He chuckled, staring me down. "You look like you could use a drink."

I looked back up at him, frowning. I really could.

My heart skipped a beat, and I took another step back. "I'm fine, thanks," I replied, my voice wavering.

The man crossed his arms, his piercing blue eyes not leaving mine. "You sure? Just one drink. It might help take the edge off. My treat."

I thought for a second. Last drink before I quit.

"Sure."

Fuck.