His back muscles flexed as he hunched over the countertop. On the countertop were three bottles of pills, but the contents were spilled over the counter as if someone was desperately trying to get to them. On the left side of the countertop was a quarter full glass of brown liquid. You didn't have to guess what it was. "Levi...?" "Go back to sleep." His deep voice was guttural and raspy. He didn't turn to look at you. Your blood froze in your veins. You swallowed a lump in your throat. "W-what're you doing?" You asked in a soft voice. "Oi, brat. Did you hear me?" He growled. "Go back to sleep." ***** A story in which a socially awkward college student and a troubled underground boxer find comfort in each other.