Killian didn't think life would get much worse...
That was until he busted a kids nose and was suspended from his PhD program.
And maybe it was luck, or God looking out for his tortured soul, because who knew something so good could come from someth...
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Killian's POV Was is this street? I thought to myself. Or maybe this one? I glanced up at a street sign that read Fremont.
I was officially lost.
I slowed down as closed my eyes, thinking back to where James had lead me last week. Why'd I have to get so drunk, I sighed.
There was a 7/11 coming up on my right, and I recognized it as the one we had passed by that night. "Oh thank god." I whispered quietly to myself. The air was getting colder around me now. I should've worn something warmer, and James's jacket was too hard to get on over my Nike pullover.
James's apartment should be coming up on the right any moment now, I recalled. And just like clockwork, I noticed the steps going up to his place. My body grew warm in embarrassment as I passed by the bushes I had thrown up in. It looked like someone had taken care of it, thank god. I still couldn't believe I had exceeded my limits so heavily that night.
There was a series of numbers on this panel by the locked inner door. I pressed the buzzer for number 16 which read James Conway right besides it.
Nothing happened the first few minutes, so I hit the buzzer again.
After another minute, the second inner door was unlocked for me. I had forgot to text James to let him know I was on my way, but Sarah had told me he had headed home after an eventful night.
She didn't tell me what eventful entailed, but she sounded alright over the phone. I walked down the long corridor until I made it to his apartment door. Before I could knock, it was swung open...
And I stood there completely frozen.
James's right arm was held against him as blood started to soak through his white shirt. His other arm and face were entirely bruised up. It looked like he had had a run in with a semi.
My arms trembled slightly at my side as suppressed memories came back in waves.
"Hey." He smiled, wincing as another shallow cut opened up on his cheek.
I couldn't find the words to say, so instead, I pushed past him and set his jacket on the kitchen table.
I could feel my lip draw blood from how hard I had bitten it in though. "Take a seat." I finally spoke after some time.
"What?" He asked me. I just motioned for him to sit as I started rummaging through his kitchen drawers and cabinets until I found a bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey and a first aid kit.
I placed the bottle on the kitchen counter in front of him with a shot glass.
He still looked confused, but he gratefully downed the shot I poured. "What the fuck happened to you." I asked him, now opening up alcohol packages and gauge strips.
"Work." He replied simply.
I grabbed his hands and placed them on my thighs as I opened up the first alcohol swap to clean his bloody knuckles. His hands were large and warm. I could feel the heat through the joggers I was wearing.
