[ Rem taught them well! At least where manners were concerned.
Bottle empty, he set it down with excessive caution on the table top, head already swimming and all those tight muscles in his shoulders and back starting to warm and soften. ]
Sometimes it helps.
[ If it were just him and Wolfwood – if he wasn't worried that more would make him puke and waste the effort of eating – he'd crack open the nearest bottle and see how long it took to drain that one, too. But between the other Vash's concerned demeanor and the so-gentle movement of Wolfwood's thumb against the back of his hand, Vash feels pinned in place, unable to keep going.
Which, based on how much the room is starting to tilt to the side, is probably for the best. ]
It's hard sometimes, you know? To keep going. [ It doesn't feel right saying that out loud, even just to himself – especially not to himself, but he doesn't get to have secrets anymore, apparently. They've both seen the worst of his life – what harm is there in talking about how he's kept putting one foot in front of the other through all that? ] Sometimes I just want it to stop. [ Rem would be furious at him for that, but he can't help it if it's true. ] When my body, and heart, and everything hurts... when I wasn't fast enough... when I wasn't good enough... when I don't want to be alone anymore, drinking makes everything a little easier for awhile.
[ He realizes, then, what he's been saying, and pulls it all back with a deep breath and a shake of his head, visibly forcing his mood into something lighter and happier. ]
But it's fun, too! We should have a drinking party sometime, you'll love it! Funny hats, and singing... [ Beaming, swaying a little in his chair, he turns to Wolfwood, and his smile goes soft. ] Dancing. [ He gives Wolfwood's hand a squeeze. ] You hear that? I'm gonna make you dance with me.
[ Putting his head down on the table is sounding like a better and better idea all the time. Wolfwood's on to something there. ...But not yet. Not quite yet.
He turns back to Vash, eyes half-lidded, falling asleep in his seat. ]
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Bottle empty, he set it down with excessive caution on the table top, head already swimming and all those tight muscles in his shoulders and back starting to warm and soften. ]
Sometimes it helps.
[ If it were just him and Wolfwood – if he wasn't worried that more would make him puke and waste the effort of eating – he'd crack open the nearest bottle and see how long it took to drain that one, too. But between the other Vash's concerned demeanor and the so-gentle movement of Wolfwood's thumb against the back of his hand, Vash feels pinned in place, unable to keep going.
Which, based on how much the room is starting to tilt to the side, is probably for the best. ]
It's hard sometimes, you know? To keep going. [ It doesn't feel right saying that out loud, even just to himself – especially not to himself, but he doesn't get to have secrets anymore, apparently. They've both seen the worst of his life – what harm is there in talking about how he's kept putting one foot in front of the other through all that? ] Sometimes I just want it to stop. [ Rem would be furious at him for that, but he can't help it if it's true. ] When my body, and heart, and everything hurts... when I wasn't fast enough... when I wasn't good enough... when I don't want to be alone anymore, drinking makes everything a little easier for awhile.
[ He realizes, then, what he's been saying, and pulls it all back with a deep breath and a shake of his head, visibly forcing his mood into something lighter and happier. ]
But it's fun, too! We should have a drinking party sometime, you'll love it! Funny hats, and singing... [ Beaming, swaying a little in his chair, he turns to Wolfwood, and his smile goes soft. ] Dancing. [ He gives Wolfwood's hand a squeeze. ] You hear that? I'm gonna make you dance with me.
[ Putting his head down on the table is sounding like a better and better idea all the time. Wolfwood's on to something there. ...But not yet. Not quite yet.
He turns back to Vash, eyes half-lidded, falling asleep in his seat. ]
What do you do, when it's too much?