Breathe | ✓

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Hangovers and Failed Hangouts
Twitch

He groaned as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Great, he had stumbled into Erica's apartment again. He wondered idly why she hadn't taken his key away or stopped talking to him entirely or given up on him. He had already given up on himself.

"Alright, sleeping beauty?" Erica said as she carried a tray laden with food. She was clad in an oversized sweater and the shortest shorts that barely covered her ass. It was a nice ass though. "You know, the key to getting wasted is that you don't get wasted till it hurts for the next few days." Erica said as she set the tray down on her messy coffee table.

He rubbed his head, tiredly and stuffed a gigantic piece of bacon into his mouth.

"Mmm, isn't this a delight? The great Twitch eating meat." Erica said, smirking a little.

"Shut up, Erica." He mumbled as he leaned against the sofa. "I'm sorry for crashing at your place all the time, it's just tha-"

She held up a hand, stopping him midway. "You can use my house whenever, Marcus." He stilled when she called him that. He'd told her his real name one drunken night and Erica knew it was a trigger, using it as rarely as possible.

"Look, Twitch," He noticed the change of name again, "I..." She struggled as if she didn't know what to say and Twitch raised an eyebrow, Erica speechless? That was rare. "It's for the best." She finally choked out.

"Where were you? Lawrence again?" He asked, changing the topic. He was uninterested in her answer but couldn't ignore her.

"Yeah. He's a good boy toy." Her confidence was back again and she stood up. "Eat up, it'll make you feel better."

Stuffing the toast and roasted vegetables into his mouth, Twitch got up to leave.

"Leaving so quickly?" Erica was leaning against her bedroom door and the sudden light that fell from her, enhanced her body shape, making it glow. Twitch swallowed.

"I've overstayed my welcome." He said, shrugging.

"Hang with me. I'm bored, you have nothing better to do except wallow in grief. So, let's have fun. Your definition of fun is probably rusty." She said as she walked up to him. Too close, Twitch thought.

"No thanks." He said, he had no intention of hanging out with her and was it such a crime to her that he wanted to think about his parents?
"What's your deal?" He said, his tone frosty.

"What?" She asked, obviously baffled.

"Why are you such a bitch? Sleeping with different guys every night, what do you gain? I don't bring up your issues, Erica because frankly, it's your goddamned life and if you want to burn then burn. Stop preaching to the choir. I loved my parents, Erica." He spat, wondering why he hadn't yelled at her before. "I loved my girlfriend, they're all gone. I'd like to respect their fucking memory for as long as I bloody want. You can't rush me into healing. Work on your own issues, little slut. Maybe a daddy complex? Raped when you were young?" He said, sneering.

"Actually, I was thirteen and it was my dad's friend, Andrew." She said, calmly but her eyes were sharper, intensified. "Great talk though, buddy."

"I'm sorry." He said, his eyes closing. "I'm a dick."

"Not as much as I am, though. It's okay, I don't care." Erica said, running her hands through her hair. She looked calm but her eyes betrayed her.

Twitch knew when people wanted space so even though words failed him, he reached forward and hugged her lean body. "It still doesn't make what I said okay." He murmured and Erica was stiff but she rested her head against his hard chest, for a minute and then he pushed away and was out of the door.

He didn't want to stick around to say anything worthwhile.