fugitive | griezmann

chapter three

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Nicole Castillo
Thursday, March 17th

I threw my head back as I took another shot in the silence of my apartment. Or the library apartment I should say. This was not and would never be my home.

My home was where all my memories were held. The warmth of my mother's reassuring hugs, the sadness of the burden my father put on my family, the excitement that flowed through us all during our few family moments.

The alcohol was rushing to my head quickly after too many shots. I could feel my pulse in my fingertips as I gripped the shot glass with one hand, and the bottle of vodka with the other.

I was planning to finish the bottle which would result in me throwing up everywhere until I passed out, or alcohol poisoning.

My face was free of makeup, but I knew you could see the dried tears that invaded my caramel skin. I had on an oversized shirt with black leggings wrapped around my exhausted legs. There was a patch of uplifted material where my shaking hands had pulled at relentlessly.

I need some type of stimulation, and I had no idea where to get it. My phone buzzed beside me, a message from Antoine. He had kept his subtle promise of visiting, and he visited often. Instead of once a week it was almost every three days, which wasn't a lot of meetings but we spent hours talking each time. I could go as far to say the Frenchman was my friend.

My only friend.

I reached for my phone and fumbled with it drunkly as I opened it and read his text.

from: Grizouu
what's up, are you free?

I texted back with a simple yes before closing my phone and filling the small glass with the clear, intoxicating liquid. It was safe to say I was a lightweight when it came to alcohol.

But I mostly drank when I had a reason, and that reason somehow always had me feeling inebriated. I was 23 as of today and it was more depressing that I was drowning my sorrows on my birthday than the reason I was drinking in the first place.

The back door to my apartment was opened making me scold myself out loud. I had a terrible habit of leaving it unlocked, and I'm sure Anto would say something.

I tossed the shot back and made a face before standing up. I stumbled my way to where he would come in.

I leaned against the wall and he turned the corner. He stopped in his tracks as he saw me and gave me a small smile. The corners of my lips turned up and I found myself smiling with my teeth. That hasn't happened in a long time so I simply blamed on the alcohol.

"Hey," I greeted, trying to sound as sober as possible. He stepped towards me and pulled me into a small hug. He released me but held onto my shoulders with his large hands as he scanned my face.

"You're drunk."

I pulled a confused face and let out a light giggle. He pouted, probably thinking it wasn't his place to scold me. I started making my way back to the kitchen as I drunkly called over my shoulder.

"It's my birthday Anto, let me live a little."

"It's your birthday? Why didn't you tell me?" he questioned as I sat myself back at the island. I poured another shot and then turned to look at him.