Adelia

[4]

"Are you almos-st done?" She asked, looking down past her knee to her ankle and furrowing her eyebrows. 

"Almost."

Her smile was lop-sided and I barely saw it for long because the liqour bottle reached her lips before I could enjoy it. She squeezed her eyes and pucked her lips. But soon calmed her face and sighed.

"I never gotten-n drunk befo-ore, " She slurred, tipping her head back as I steadied her foot. 

I pressured myself to keep a straight face, "Careful."

She snickered and swung the bottle around, the caramel-colored liquid swaying about. The weight of the glass almost seeming too heavy for her tipsy hands. She pushed her hand over her mouth and clenched her teeth, holding back a cackle, "It tickles." Then she removed her hand and grimaced, "now it's hurting."

"Sorry." 

I dragged the needle from her skin and wiped the tattoo with a piece of cloth to remove any extra ink.

"Done?" She hopped from the kitchen counter and hobbled to the mirror, examing the print I made on her appendages. Repositioning her foot and looking at it from different angles. And then limping over to me, "It really hurts." She frowned, squeezing her eyes and gulping the alcohol to the last drop.

I pulled it from her mouth, "Not too much."  

She smiled, but could only to a certain extint before she gave me a pained look again, "Make it stop?"

So I went to the island in the middle of the room and she followed. I glanced down, opening the cup boards and pulling out a spare carton of spirits. She quickly took it and heaved a breath, swallowing as much as she could at one time. I knew it was going to make her sick. 

She held the fluid close to her heart and her face paled. And then she collapsed. Onto the tile floor. Hugging the ground and muttering incoherent things, "I feel better now," She whispered, her face buried into the ground. 

A wave went through my brain, the signs of an approaching headache, "Let's get you to the couch." And when she didn't move, I mixed her arms with mine, her warm skin no match for my chilled bones. 

"I'm sorry," She softly kissed her words before they flew away and then we were on the sofa. In a dark, moonlit living room. And we were alone. And she laid her head onto my chest. And we were alone. And she touched my hand and didn't let go for a long time. And we were alone. And I wanted to kiss her so badly as her eyes closed and our balled and battered hands rested onto my beating heart. And we were alone. And she was so beautiful when we were alone.