One shots? {Jamilton}

Strained {Jamilton}

10. "I might have had a few shots."

this is for CrazycatLadyXD

animatic by ziksua
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~Hammy ham ham man POV~

It had happened last night, and the night before that, and the night before that. As I watched the same scene unfold before my eyes again, I began to truly wonder what the heck was going on.

"Thomas, what have you done?"

For the fourth night in a row, I've found a drunk Thomas, empty liquor bottles, and a mess in our house.

"Thomas, this is the fourth time after work. How much have you drank?" I mutter but apparently its loud enough for hik to hear.

"I-I might h-have had a few d-drinks," he slurs, not being able to tlak properly.

"But why?!" I groan in frustration, and run my hands through my hair.

"C-cause..." he begins but never continues. I shake my head and begin to clean Thomas' mess of bottles and blankets.

"Cause what Thomas?" I say ina stern voice that I use only when I'm dead serious. "I've found you like this for the past four days! I dont know why youre drinking and i want to help you so bad but I dont know whats going on with you!"

My little rant seems to sober him up slightly and I see him falter for a second before speaking up.

"I-I do want to tell you b-but at the same time...I dont," Thomas says, swaying slightly as he stands. I try to make sense of what he just said but shake my head. I dont feel like figuring it out right now.

As I throw away the last bottles, I begin to walk towards our bedroom, not wanting to deal with a drunk thomas for another night in a row. As I pass him, he gravs my wrist, making me stop and turn to him.

His expression is a mix of terror and guilt as he tries to think of words to say. Silently, he pulls me onto the couch, us facing each other on opposite sides. I say nothing as I watch hum scramble for something to say.

"I-I may have...done something which I'm not proud of," he slurs, the alcohol affecting his speech. "Which is why I'm drinking. I'm sorry."

I only nod along, listenin to every word hes saying because I know that sober Thomas would probably not give up this information as easily. I feel my face contort into an expression of concern because Thomas wasnt a big drinker. So if what had happened to him cause him to want to drink every night, then it must have been bad. And what was worse was that despite me pleas, he hasnt told me what had happened —until now(ahhhhhh im pretty sure none of that made any sense. im sorry)

"T-The other night...I-I kissed Maria. O-or maybe she kissed me. I-I don't know," Thomas blurted, leaving me shocked. I was definitely not expecting that. Thomas continued, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes tight. "A-And then I went t-to her house and..." His voice trailed off but I could infer what he was implying.

"W-when?" was the only thing I could whisper, not teusting myself to raise my voice any higher.

"The day when I said that I had to stay overnight at the office cause of too much work," he mumbled, his head hung in shame and defeat. I could barely speak as I felt pinpricks of tears forming in my eyes.

The news hit me like a brick wall. I could barely breathe as I felt reality strike me. Hard. Maybe he didnt really love me. Maybe he didnt really care. Maybe he didnt really mean all those things we promised each other.

What had compelled him to do it? Was I just not enough? Was there something that she had that I didnt?As these thoughts swirled in my mind, Thomas' voice snapped me back into the present.

"Alex, what's going on in there? I dont like it when you're quiet."

"Why?" Thats the only thing I could stutter out as I lifted my head to stare at him. As I scammed his face, I could see that he was genuinely sorry but a part of me just couldnt accept it.

"I-I dont know why...but I'm so so so sorry Alex. I-I dont know what I was thinking or why it even happened but I'm so sorry. Please, please Alex. I'm so sorry," he pleads, tears run down his face and I realize that tears are running down my cheeks too.

I can hear the sorrow and guilt in his voice and part of me wants to reach out and forgive him. But a stronger part of me doesnt want to trust him again.

"I'll think about it," I say in a tone thats devoid of emotion. Even my own voice scares me. I glance at Thomas' face. A look of loss and despair is plastered onto his face as I rise from the couch. He reaches out to take my hand, to stop me— but he stops and lets me go.

I let my legs take me to the guest bedroom as I shut the door behind me and lean my back against it, sliding slowly to the ground.

I tangle my hands into my hair, grabbing fistfuls of the dark mocha strands and let out a strained sob.

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ahhhh heres a fresh plate of trash that I managed to make over the weekend...

~❤️