drunk on the floor of the apartment (89th)

His head, heavy.

Heavier than the rest of his body, like rocks.

Like rocks in a bag, bag of rocks, in the river and the water running over them and the sacking against the stone and the stones smooth because the water runs over them and it makes them smooth and they’re heavy, heavier than the rest of his body

”Is this how it’s sposed to be?” he murmurs.

the ground is cold but that doesn’t matter because his body is cold too but he doesn’t feel it because his skin is thick, he knows because he’s seen inside and he knows just how thick his skin is and how much force it takes to cut through it.

and he tries to lift his head, he puts his elbows against the ground and pushes, sluggish in his movement. His chest arches up briefly and then he collapses back against the ground, pushing the air out of his lungs. A soft giggle, like a bubble of air pushes up his throat and erupts over the futility of it all.

then the laughter ends and he’s laying there, chest heaving, the dull glow of the lamp in the corner of the apartment washing over him like a heavy blanket, holding him in place. The room is quiet, it’s three in the morning and he left Lys on her couch on the fourth floor thirty minutes ago

his tributes are dead

"Get up."

the room tilts. he’s sitting up now, face pressed against his knees in the golden light of the lamp and the quiet of the room and Avriel’s head spins. He looks up, eyes searching the dark but the floor tilts towards him and then his cheek is against hardwood again and it’s a boat, a creaking thing alive beneath him

and the spear flies through Aneesa’s eye again.

Bile brims in the back of his throat and Avriel wretches, body recoiling suddenly against the acid in his stomach and the drinks that Lys kept ordering for him, bitter like gasoline against his lips, burning going down

He rolls to the side, palm flat against the floor for purchase, he pushes, body moves up, he’s on his knees now on the hardwood and sweat drips down the back of his neck, down his back, spit pools in his mouth and Avriel tips forward again, resting his head against the cold hardwood.

and Nixie’s sword pushes through Zane’s skull.

He curls in on himself, heart pounding against the back of his skin, his hand curls into a fist over his heart and even here in the dark half-light when the day should be done and his body is so numb he can barely move it, he sees them in front of him

Blade falls to the sand

and his knife pushes through Areto’s heart

”Is this drunk or is this just me?” he whispers against the hardwood, tone more than just empty for once, words raw from the bile in his throat, pain laced through every syllable

in the dark after the bar lights have all gone out and he’s the only one left alive and his skin burns and there aren’t even stars left and the world spins and he's in one piece and there's a hole in Zane's head and it's always going to be like this

after it's all over,

he's always going to be alone like this.