.:Battle Scars:. {Briar, Ella, Pogue, Nyte, and Puppy}
Mar 11, 2014 18:13:31 GMT -5
Post by maverick hale 🌧️ d5 [nyte] on Mar 11, 2014 18:13:31 GMT -5
A G A T E
x x x xI giggle, a wholehearted, drunken giggle. Her words bounce off me like a ball on pavement. The hearty chimes continues, until I'm nearly doubled over as a sharp ache begins to radiate throughout my abdomen. I do not know how long I stand there, childish giggles drawn from my throat. Probably much longer than I should have. After all, small bumps were beginning to form on my exposed legs where my skin tried to warm itself. "And by the way, if you're trying to... show off something by only being in boxers..." My guffaws only grow in intensity, my eyes travelling up and down the girl's body. "Trust me honey, you're..." my smile almost hurts now, yet I cannot seem to wipe it off of my face "Not my type." Another giggle.
I feel almost nauseous, last night's binge drinking finally making pace with me. I stagger forward, my head landing on a less-than-comfortable breastplate before managing to right myself. "Whoopsies." I straighten my back, long arms stretching out behind me as I once again try to crack the bones which lay stiff upon my back. I need a smoke.
I reach into where my pants pocket should have been, a groan escaping me as I remember my situation. The cold air was obviously not doing much for my presentation either. "Fuck me." I mutter, pulling the elastic band around my boxers to ensure that no stray smokes had been hidden inside. "Anyone gotta pack? I could use some right now."
i wasn't sure if last night's high still lingered, or this hangover was nothing less than killer. I couldn't be sure of anything, my vision fading in and out of focus as my thoughts raced through my mind like stallions, each hoof beat sending a new wave of pain down my neck. I wasn't hopeful, as after all here I am amidst a pack of children, none of which should have even touched a cigarette in their lifetime.
Although with each passing day, children seem to be growing older faster. After all, aren't children sent into war every year? How silly it all was, that a child couldn't buy booze but they could thrust their knife into another's back.
Hypocrites. All of them.