Intertwined

Chapter 16: Drunken Love

Lucas's P.o.V.-
It has been three days since our arguement, and I have yet to hear from Anastasia and I am starting to not care. Lies, I haven't stopped thinking about her since she drove off. My dad has been in and out the house but hasn't stayed until today. I have indulged in drinking away my sorrows, which my dad has noticed because for once we are completely out of alcohol.

"Why the fuck are you wasting all my good shit!?" he yells at me through the thin walls of our "home".

He starts banging on my door but I refuse to let his sorry ass in. Plus I am a little wasted.

"You hear me boy! You are gonna pay for every last bottle!" He yells some more.

"Yeah yeah yeahhhhh." I slur.

I get up and unlock my door not even thinking about my raging father on the other side. I open the door and find him, now, scrambling around searching for some sort of alcohol.

"You aren't gonna find anything." I chuckle.

"I swear to god I'll kill your ass!" He roars.

He picks up empty bottles off the floor and begins launching them in my direction. I manage to dodge most of them but still get hit by a few.

"What the fuck type of father are you?" I ask rhetorically.

I don't expect an answer, and I don't need one. It was all pretty self explanatory.

"You're a drunk and you need some fucking help." I say seriously.

"Looks like you aren't far from it yourself." He says trying to get to me.

"I am nothing like you." I say.

"You got that damn right, you aren't nothing but a pussy ass bitch just like your mother." He spits.

I walk towards him furiously. Feeling the need to stand up for the mother that hasn't ever been there for me. I stop about five feet in front of him and pick up a half full bottle of liquor I had hid behind the TV. I throw it at him as a way of saying fuck off without actually saying it. I wish I could get in my car right now and get out of here as fast as I possibly can. So I do the next best thing, I put on my jacket and begin to sprint as fast as I can until I feel my heart is going to burst out my chest. I don't even realize where my feet are taking me until I get there. I am standing in front of Anastasia's house. It is ten o' clock at night and the house is completely dark except for her lamp shining from her room upstairs. Last week afterschool she had took me on a fancy tour of her house. She pretended as if she was some grand architect describing her brand new masterpiece. She acted as if she had a French accent. She could hardly be serious and would laugh every other room we entered. When we made it to her room I was surprised to see that it was oddly bright and aesthetically appealing. Her wallpaper was a pastel yellow with white flowers in the corners. All around the room were glowing lanterns. There was a small white vanity in the corner of her room next to her medium sized closet. I sat down on her bed near her bay window, which above all things was the most peaceful aspect of the room. As I stand outside her house now and think about that day I see her curtains close. I needed to see her. I needed to apologize. I choose to try and climb up to her window. By doing so I almost fall twice but manage to get to her small balcony without breaking all of my bones. Pretty gold lanterns line the railing of the balcony. I knock on her window. I hear movement before I see a tiny brown eye peek through the curtain cautiously. She opens the curtains and gives me a sad look. I look at how beautiful she looks standing there in her huge yellow t-shirt with Nike shorts. She looks so small and curvy almost as if she was a little kid. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun. She opens the door and takes a tiny step out.

"Lucas what are you doing here?" She asks.

Before I can answer concern washes over her face.

"Lucas what happened to your head?" She says as she carefully runs her fingers over the gash residing on my forehead.

She pulls me inside and gets some guaze from under her bathroom sink. I sit on her bed awkwardly waiting on her. She comes over to me and places the bandages on my wounds.

"I am so sorry Anastasia." I say from the bottom of my heart.

She is quite.

"I didnt mean what I said, I just... I dont know." I add quickly.

"Are you drunk?" she asks in disbelief.

"No, I might have been earlier but I am not drunk now. So no." I say.

"Okay. I guess I am sorry too then." she says sadly.

"I like you Anastasia. A lot." I say surprising her and myself.

"I cant." she says tearring up.

She turns away from me but I see her reflection through her vanity mirror.

"An, why were you crying at the gas station that night. Why are you crying now?" I ask sympathetically.

She faces me and wipes her eyes.

"It's my ex." she says before crying uncontrollably oncemore.

I stand up and go over to her. I hold her and stroke her hair, while leading her to the bed to sit down.

"You can tell me anything. I am here and I am not going anywhere until I know you are okay." I say.