Mafia Parade

19| A drunken Emilia

If it wasn't for my empty stomach, I wouldn't have had got out of my room, at all.

My mind was scattered all over the place, I couldn't think rationally at all. But I was sure of one thing, and that is to avoid Eric at all costs; not because I was embarrassed or anything of sort; well I was a tad bit, but why my brain wanted me to stay away from him is because my body won't listen to it, I will just want to kiss him and feel his hands on me again.

It was early in the evening when I went down stairs groggily and made a quick sandwich. The mansion was eerily silent, it was so silent that I could hear the waves break when hitting the rocks down the cliff.

My mind wondered where Eric would be; the last time I heard his voice was when he knocked my door and asked me to come down and have dinner yesterday.

It's been two days already.

I sighed audibly as I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom -- well it wouldn't hurt if I called it mine since there are plenty in the house, right?

The minutes seemed to be longer than usual, time just wouldn't pass quickly and my eyes flew open every time I tried to shut them down.

Suddenly, I shot up from my bed and went straight to the kitchen; not to eat, nope.

Le moi wanted to have a drink.

A drink as in an alcoholic drink.

And just so you know, I never actually drink.

I rummaged through the fridge for about a minute; contemplating about what to drink before grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels and two beers.

I settled down in a couch near the fireplace, and started off with the beers.

The bitter taste felt so foreign to me but I continued nevertheless.

"I never knew it felt this way!" I shout out, practical to no one, well maybe to to my whiskey bottle. However, what I was trying to do is to get on my feet and go see where Eric is.

Yes. Eric Brandelilli.

"Eriiiiic? "

My voice echoed through the whole house which made a pout etch on my face instantly.

But as I drew a long breath an idea crossed my mind.

"I'm coming to seeeee you."

I stopped for a second at the vacant space between the corridor and the kitchen.

Is the house moving or something?

I shook my head slowly before trying to head to the staircase.

Keyword being trying.

My legs were like jelly, wobbling with every one or two steps. I never knew that getting drunk was like this. I felt like flying, and the Cheshire smile on my face wouldn't go away.

But when I thought of Eric again this time, it did leave my face to be replaced with a frown.

I stopped in front of my room, suddenly forgetting how I even managed to get here.

"Arse-hooole." I slurred as I threw myself on the bed.

"Hijo de puuuta." I drew the last word as I moved my hands in the air as if writing it, and as soon as the words left my mouth my hands clasped over it and I mumbled.

"I'm soooo sorry Eric's mommy," I frowned as I sat on the bed with my ankles crossed underneath me, thinking of something other than the one syllable words forming in my head, "You are no puta."