uuuggh, I’m tired and I can’t keep my eyes open. I work late tomorrow..or..later today lol, but either way I’ll be on soon enough to make replies. Sorry y’all, just so fuckign tired right now. Night!
“Now see, this is why ye shoulda called me. I got a full stock of aged liquor at me place. Father’s favorite stash.” She snickered, taking the bottle back to take another swig of it.
“Oh, well you are certainly being added to my speed dial.” He laughed light and took another drink.
She wiggled her shoulders, “Well now don’ I feel all warm an’ fuzzy inside.” she smirked, twiddling her thumbs in her lap.
She cracked a smile at him as she shook her head, taking the bottle from him to tip it back to her lips, taking a large swig of it, “Where did ye get this stuff?” She asked, her upper lip curling from the after burn of the liquid.
Francis shrugged and took the bottle back. He took a swig. “Convince stores and what not. I don’t buy the expensive shit because my fortune would be gone in a few short days.”
“Now see, this is why ye shoulda called me. I got a full stock of aged liquor at me place. Father’s favorite stash.” She snickered, taking the bottle back to take another swig of it.
She mimicked his actions, shrugging her shoulders as well. She then gave him a sheepish smile, “I missed talkin’ ta ye too, hon.” She murmured softly, crossing her arms over her chest.
“What you been up to, Fidget?” He asked, looking over her. He didn’t see many changed to her physical appearance from the last time he saw her. He could remember how long it had been since he had seen her.
“Ye know, tha usual. Gettin’ drunk, workin’, drinkin’ s’more.” She chuckled, kicking at the ground with the toe of her boot. “Ye busy or anythin’? Maybe ye can take a breather over at me place so we can catch up.” She offered, chewing on her bottom lip..
Well, I gotta get ready for work. There are still a few things that need replies to, but I’ll get to that once I’m off work or sometime around then. Like if I do owe/will owe/or you owe me! lol. Love yah babies!
[Voice Mail] "...What? What do I do with this? Do I talk?...Uh, hi, Fidget...I was ju--shit!" *phone clatters to the ground and hangs up*
She couldn’t help the laughter that came up from her throat, pressing a button to hear the message again, “Amon, I fuckin’ swear..” She chuckled.
Something didn’t feel right. Something inside him was aching and his head was spinning. He felt sick, sicker than he had ever felt when alive. Was he dying? Finally going back to were Shelly was on the other side? What was wrong with him? He couldn’t stop moving thought. If he just stopped somewhere he could easily be attacked. And in this state he that might not be good. His feet dragged as he walked and his limbs shook. Everything hurt. He just wanted to curl up somewhere. Just lay down and die already. He felt his legs start to give out and his face smacked against the wet pavement. Eric couldn’t move. Hell he couldn’t feel most of his body now. Everything was starting to go dark. He saw a blurry figure coming closer and panicked, but there was nothing he could do.
The rain was just annoying to her now. No clients were coming in, there was barely anyone walking past the parlor this time of day anyway. Her mind was racing with several different thoughts as she looked out the window from her tattoo chair, her lips moving against each other as she played with the dead skin that was pealing from them. Deciding to call it a day, the figure outside her shop caught her eyes; made her jump into step once they felt like a bag of bricks. “son of a bitch.” she hissed as she hurried to the front door, swinging it open. As of now, the rain didn’t mean anything, the person on the ground though, she had to figure something out. She knelt down beside them, trying to shake him, “Hey..hey guy..” she said in a panic, trying to find the upper body strength to help him up.
He grunted and teased slightly when he was touched. Being shook only seemed to make the pain worse. He found enough energy to push off the ground and sit up. “Eric…I’m…Eric…” He mumbled at his lap. He ran a hand through his hair to push his stringy bangs off his face and look up at her. His eyes were a little glazed over, making him look more like he was drunk than ill. A wave of nausea swept over him and he grabbed his head.
Either there was something really wrong with him or she was wasting her time for a bum. She crept up to him as he clutched his head in what seemed like pain. She touched his arm softly, “Eric..’m Fidget…Look, ‘m gone help ye, okay? Ye gotta trust me ta help ye, alright?” She asked cautiously. With some people that were in his state tended to lash out towards helping hands. She stood up then, only to bend down to drape an arm over her shoulder, ” ‘m gone need ye ta use yer legs, Eric, can ye do tha’?” She coached him as she slowly stood up straight with him in tow.
He nodded and did his best to help push off the ground. He wobbled a little, clinging to her. It took him a few good minutes to regain his balance enough to stand a little on his own. “Th…ank you…” He mumbled. His stomach twisted in knots and he glanced around. Where was the crow? Was it hurt? That would explain his condition. He sucked in shaky, little breaths, trying to keep himself calm.
She struggled a little bit, what with how much weight he was putting on her, but she refused to say anything about it. She hurried, or at least tried to, to the front door of the shop, swinging it open as soon as she could reach the handle, helping the wobbly legged man into the warmer atmosphere. “alright, here we go..” She said, helping him into one of the plush chairs that sat in the waiting room. ” ‘m gone call someone ta come help ye.” She said, pushing his hair out of his face. “Can ye try an’ stay ‘wake fer me, Eric?”
His eyes went wide at the though of being checked out by a doctor. All they would find out is that he was a living corpse. Not the best idea. “N-no…” He crocked. “Bird…need to find…my bird..a crow with…br-bright red eyes…find him…heal him.” He had to look and sound insane, raving about a bird.
She furrowed her brows, unable to fully grasp what he was saying. “..A crow?..where-where would yer bird be? I can’t go out an’ leave ye here ta go on some goose hunt fer a bird, man.” She said, chewing the inside of her cheek. Great, she found a crazy person and just had to help him.
She leaned her head back and let out a groan, “Goood,” She said, putting more emphasis on the word, “Ye stroke yer ego too much.” she snapped her head forward, “Now gimmie a drink.”
“I don’t think I stroke it enough,” he pouted. Francis grabbed a bottle of bourbon and held it out for her as he downed his shot. “There you go, darling.”
She cracked a smile at him as she shook her head, taking the bottle from him to tip it back to her lips, taking a large swig of it, “Where did ye get this stuff?” She asked, her upper lip curling from the after burn of the liquid.