Kissed by Winter [Discontinued]

28. Golden, Cheesy, TROUBLE!

A/N: Long break, I know. Miss me? I know. Will it happen again? Probably not :3

P.S.: Almost 1000 <3 <3 <3 Yayyyyy!!!!! Keep sharing the love. <3 <3 JPC :*

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is fourteen," Nick addressed the pin-drop silence in his empty apartment as he gulped down the last drop of whiskey from his glass.

Two hiccups and four rapid blinks later, he fell back against the sofa and caressed his left cheek. If his wife had left her scent there with her soft peck, by now, it was surely lost in the stench of spirit. Nick had not changed any of his clothes since he returned from work except for his shirt. Before drowning his senses in whiskey, he took off his blue shirt and tried on one of the twelve white shirts Lyanna had got for him. It fit him too well for his liking. After the fifth glass, however, most of the buttons had come off. He kept fixing himself one glass after another until the bottle was nearly empty. His toned chest was exposed and glistening with sweat when he stumbled toward the open kitchen. He braced himself on the platform and looked at the baked dish for six solid minutes.

. . . Enjoy your dinner and don't worry, I'll stay in touch . . .

It had been hours since he had last heard her voice. Was she okay? What gave her the idea that he wanted a divorce? Who went to her place one day before the wedding with the proposal of a pre-nup? Had she signed them? Why had she not informed him that she reached? Why did he let her leave? Why didn't he drop her there as a good husband would?

It's because you are a shit husband. Don't you remember that you are responsible for the death of someone she loved?

His inebriated mind was bouncing question after question, which was starting to cause a headache. He tried whiskey to wash away his conscience, but it did not work. Now, the only option left was Adam. Nick took another long look at the lasagna and, with the support of the platform, tried to walk back to the coffee table where he may have tossed his phone.

The fourteen fully topped whiskeys were taking a toll on his vision and his head was spinning like a merry-go-round. He somehow managed to find the sofa and sat down trying to focus on the coffee table in a bid to locate his phone. Once found, he unlocked the screen and started scrolling through his recent contacts. Satisfied, he swiped the contact name and, shortly, the call was connected.

"Adaaaaaam. Guess which bitch fucked up? You get zereo guesses. 'Twas me. I . . . I fucked up."

"Uh huh," came the rough voice.

"I lost this one Adum, I did. And not just theee deal. I lost thaa girl thooo. She gone. Kinya believe, I? I lost a freekin' girl? And not just anaaayyy girl. I lost peaches. My peaches."

"Bitches?"

"NOOO! Not beetches, peaches peaches. Fruit name for girl."

"Why peaches?"

"Because she issss smell like peaches. And she issssss fresh and soft and ahhhhhhhh, I want peaches."

A chuckle sounded on the other end.

"I knew you would laugh, you bastaaard. It's your curse, after all, that has made meeeh lover . . . love . . . lo . . . lover herrrr."

"What did you do? Where is she?" the voice sounded gruff and cut off.

"Sheee gone. Poof. She gawwwwnn with them dog-dead. Summer's funeral."

"Are you drunk?"

"Veryyyyy little. Just a dropp of shuntshine."

"I'll be there, Nicholas!" a different voice sounded.

"Adem, what happennnt to yer . . . okay come come. I have baked lasagna. But only aayh will eeet it. Coz maiiee peaches made it furrr meh."

"Go to sleep, Bonbon. I'll be there soon."

"Fffuck you pornboyyy . . . only peaches calls me bonbon," Nick slammed the phone shut and got up way too quickly. The blood rushed from his head and the effect, mixed with his inebriation, was an unwelcome one. He stumbled multiple times on his way to the kitchen and finally braced himself against the platform. He took the container in his hands and slid down to the floor with it. He didn't bother with a spoon or a fork or knife. He dug his paws in it like a grizzly bear and started relishing the cheesy goodness of his wife's wholesome home cooking. It made him miss the sandwiches she would pack for him for work. Even in his numb state, he felt like a cretin. He remembered the immortal words of Adam which he, to date, referred to as his curse.

Someday, Nicko! Someday you're going to love a person to pieces. Someday you will learn that not everybody is after your money. One girl will destroy you at your own game and you'll realize what true love is. I only hope that by the time you take these money-made blinkers off of your eyes, it won't be too late.

Nick's hand, face, neck, and chest were generously topped with pasta sauce. The whiskey had given its final blow and Nick, still holding the container, had fallen asleep on the kitchen floor. He was knocked out so bad that he did not even hear the front door open or acknowledge a presence in front of him. He stirred a little but did not hear when the person said, "This is going to be a piece of cake."

A/M: Guys...Just...Just watch How To Get Away With Murder...Loveeeeeeeee it! Oh btdubs, 5 days to Game of Thrones! <3 :D