Slip

NOTE: set after Cloak and Dagger Part 3
(CW: alcohol abuse)
 
Marric was right: that hangover was expensive. I'd woken up so many times in the last month clear-headed I'd almost forgotten what the old mornings were like. I didn't miss them. That bottle itched in my hand every second I held it. I justify to myself that it was the stress again. Just a means to deal with nerves. But I used the old traditions as an excuse. Pour one out, just to prove to myself it didn't bother me. Toast the dead, that's the only polite thing to do.
 
With my view of the world crumbling, shattering like glass around me, what harm was a single bottle? Hell of a vintage, after all.
 
Woke up today feeling that harm, deep in my chest. Heavy like lead.
 
I wonder if Roben knew.
 
Day One.
 
Again.