morning { g l o r y } reibert

"Oh fucvmk ogffjgk,b-" slurs. My mouth is, dry, "no waay it's tiiimeeag," bottles empty, squad cashed out -- they're happy. 

It was successful, huh?

My head bows a little, propped up and leaning against Ber- Baaa- Berrotll-- Tbera bbbbvf- Beritt," Berrtie as we walk in tandom, just us two. Two little soldier boys, he deals my weight well "I rememmemberr when we'd march, in those boots," I can't ever remember what all they remember -- what they choose to bring up. Everything's so tucked away, nicely like monsters in a childbook, "clunkk clunky, that one time you fell? on the log, ya member that Bertle?? HAAHAAA" and there's a shake with it. He puts his hand over my mouth, "they're trying to sleep," a shushed tone. 

"Well ain't that fuckin nice!"

He's tryin his hardest to keep me quiet, and it's nice in a way; that genuine sweaty emotion, one of the few he shows anymore. Between him and Annie and all the goddamn moments I've spent making myself my own lock box of monsters- fuck it what's the fuckin point.

We stop at the apartment door, slumped against the wall and if I wasn't a mix between sticking my tongue down his throat again and wanting to jump out the window, I'd probably pass out. 

"Whaa- awwwww, Bertie, embarrassed?"

Shit.

Rubbing alcohol palms into my eyes -- I've gotta stop, he unlocks the door and helps me inside and fuck, goddamn it; drinking, yikes. Shit, "I''m sorry," cotton mouth and dry eyes he's all I have. 

"Bertie-"

I've gotta stop.