told ya so >> lena&lukey

l u k e    s e a r l e y   .

Family seems to be a losing game recently. 

Isn't it any surprise Luke's drunk at the reunion? It all started when Andal invited all the church ladies over, then half of the Searley's overheard somehow (they hear everything) and invited themselves right over. This happens more than you'd ought to think. Luke's ever been the introvert, mostly because he hates how loud it gets. Southern folk, and somehow church ladies are the loudest culprits of them all. 

His aunt brings a bottle of bourbon for their ma; Luke eyes it up until an opportunity presents itself. He bounces between the house and his car, going back every so often just to check if the coast clears itself or not. That car of his is slowly becoming his best friend, he regrets leaving it for the third time once his uncle starts asking all these questions about school and girls.

There are no girls.

What do you think this is? 

There comes the rare moment that it's just Luke alone in the kitchen with the bottle of bourbon, and it's everything he's waited so long for. For as long as he was waiting, he didn't think through any kind of solid plan. Luke just walks up, grabs a glass from the cabinet and pours it to the brim. The more the merrier, right? He's never really drank bourbon (or much of ... anything), how strong can it be? 

This was his first mistake. His second was chugging it entirely where he was standing, gagging with the final few drops and struggling to keep it down. He slams the glass a little too strong into the counter and grips the sink as the initial wave of what the fuck passes through him with a cold shiver. A "you good?" comes unexpectedly from the doorway and he doesn't even check to see who. 

Thumbs up! All good here. 

For a minute there he still feels sober, the smoky aftertaste strong enough to keep him up for sure. And then it hits him, like a whole castle falling around him. It starts with a sinking feeling in his gut that moves to his knees and feet, Luke feels sluggish without even moving. His arms weight three times as much as he remember, it feels like trudging through mud trying to make it to a bed in time. 

Instead, he holds his head like a migraine and wanders to the garage. Luke doesn't start stumbling until having to make it down the steps, suddenly it's like he's unlocked being drunk as a dog. It's never felt so good to collapse on a wooden bench before. "Nap time," he mumbles to himself before closing his eyes.