Doctor Strange Imagines

(#28) Damaged man- Part 2

I saw in the comments of Damaged man that many wanted a part 2. So here it is!  And there may even be a part three... Comment if you would like a part 3. ^^ Anyways! As always thanks for reading.

The rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance, interrupting the peaceful night that had settled over New York just hours ago. Stephen tossed and turned, his eyes squeezed shut tightly as he mumbled incoherent words under his breath. His body shivered from cold, his covers having been tossed to the floor just moments ago.

His mind was restless, an uneasy feeling always settled in the depths of his mind. After you left, his mind became a mess. His nights of peaceful sleep had become nightmares reflecting his mistakes. It had been long after he snapped out of his anger. Memories of when it happened were still fresh in his mind.

The clock on his bedroom ticked again and again, eventually hitting the right hour for him to wake up. Two in the morning, a perfect time for Stephen to be drinking as usual. It had become a habit of his to wake up early and drown his thoughts with some strong drinking. He pulled the covers off him, standing up and making his way to the kitchen as he left his messy bedroom behind.

He had stumbled through the hallway, bumping into things every now and then from the effect of drinking just hours ago.

His arrival to the kitchen had taken some time, but he eventually got there after some struggle. He let out a long and careless yawn, flicking up the switch on the wall next to him and being received by his messy and unkempt kitchen.

The once beautifully designed and arranged kitchen was now loitered around with bottles varying from beer, wine, whiskey, and several other types of alcohol. The sink was floodig with dirty plates, having been too lazy to even think of cleaning up. Piles of paper plates could be found here and there since he had run out of plates really soon.

He opened a cabinet, snatched a new bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass with some ice in it. He took a seat on the only clean and available stool, setting his glass down as he ruffled his hair to undo the appearance of a typical bed head. He picked up his whiskey, downed it in one gulp and set it down with a loud clank on the marble counter.

A groan left his mouth as the strong taste of alcohol went down his throat like a burning flame. He hated it, yet he found himself loving it also. The bitter taste would stay in his throat for hours, aching and reminding him of all the drinking he has gone. But that is what he enjoyed about it. The bitter taste made him forget everything else. Like an escale to reality.

He didn't hesitate to pour some more in his glass, his eyes closing for a moment as he cleared his throat. His throat ached from the taste, his body practically screaming at him to stop drinking for once and for all.

He ignored it as usually, about to down his whiskey once again when he suddenly froze in place. His hand shot up to his mouth, covering it as he stood and stumbled back on his steps quickly. His other hand opened up immediately and his drink fell to the floor, landing with a loud crash as pieces of glass scattered everywhere.

His eyes were wide, extreme terror present on his expression as he uncovered his mouth. "Wh-What have I done?" His raspy voice whispered to no one in particular as he continued taking steps back. His eyes were darting around, spotting every single bottle of alcohol that had been laying around for months.

His eyesight blurred, making him realize how quickly he was breathing. His chest heaved up and down at an increidbly fast place, his lungs trying to get the sufficient oxygen needed to continue working correctly. His mind started racing, terror flooding his veins as he only looked around frantically.