IC contact for wethelost

[devoutish]

Solomons & Melborn
1108 Sweet Cream Street

[Feel free to use this space for letter/package deliveries as well as visits/knocks on the front door!]

Comments

[devoutish]

[Alfie tightens his grip around Royce's shoulders, frowning.]

That's not what we talked about, me dying.

[bywolves]

[ That confuses him, in the state he's in, and he makes a slurry sort of questioning noise. ]

What?

[devoutish]

Yeah. We talked about me staying here. Bringing my family and all.

[bywolves]

No - no, that's not what I mean. [ Royce says, breath hitching. ] No. You're going to die before me. You will. Even if - even if you're here, you will. I'm not even, I'm not even half of how old I can get, I'm not even a fourth.

[devoutish]

[Alfie stays where he is, holding on, and goes quiet.]

[bywolves]

[ He swallows hard again, and goes silent as well for a few moments. He's too drunk for this. ]

I wanna make the wine. So I can remember. [ He says finally, slurred. Sniff. ] You're so - you're so important. Alfie. You're. I have to remember.

[devoutish]

I could stay alive for you.

[He says softly - so, so softly, almost inaudibly.]

[bywolves]

[ His ears catch it, though. It doesn't matter, he's not going to remember, but. ]

Selfish. [ Royce mutters, almost unintelligible. He's going limp, on the verge of passing out. ] Thasselfish.

[devoutish]

[He sighs.]

I'm the selfish one, mate.

[bywolves]

[ Royce doesn't answer, mostly out. He's close, face buried against Alfie's chest, arm thrown over Alfie's side, coming up under Alfie's arm and holding onto Alfie's shoulder loosely. ]

[devoutish]

Go to sleep.

[Alfie murmurs to him, stroking fingers though his hair.

He'll be up for a few hours longer himself.]

[bywolves]

[ He does sleep. He sleeps for a good, long time - in fact, he'll sleep until the next morning, if Alfie lets him. The morning light coming through the skylight is what wakes him up, and Royce groans and tries to crawl back under the blankets, his head throbbing. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie lets him, in part because he doesn't wake up himself. Royce stirring is the only thing that rouses him, and he doesn't do more than groan and shove himself closer.]

[bywolves]

[ There's a few minutes where Royce just lays very still and tries not to vomit, but he loses the battle. Scrambling out of bed, he races to the tiny, compact bathroom of the treehouse and loses the content of his stomach. ]

[devoutish]

[If Royce shifting around woke Alfie up halfway, this wakes him up the rest of the way. With another groan, he props himself up on his elbows, squinting in the direction of the bathroom.]

Bread. Bread's good for a hangover.

[bywolves]

[ Alfie just gets a pathetic groan from the direction of the bathroom. He's dying. Please finish the job. ]

[devoutish]

Royce, I will come in there if you want me to.

[He's just saying.]

[bywolves]

[ Another round of vomiting, and then, after a minute, hoarsely: ]

No, it's... it's okay. Give me a minute. [ A beat. He knows they keep toothpaste up here, he needs it. ]

[devoutish]

Mm.

[He mutters.]

Should've taken the bottle away.

[bywolves]

[ He manages to find a toothbrush, thankfully, and there's the sound of him brushing for a good minute before he slowly makes his way back out and crawls into bed. ]

Wasn't that drunk when I saw you. [ Royce mumbles. ] I wasn't planning on getting that drunk.

[devoutish]

[Alfie drapes all over him again, practically lying on top of him, if Royce doesn't wiggle away.]

My offer to take care of Kid still stands, mate.

[bywolves]

[ He's definitely fine with this, curling up under Alfie. He doesn't feel sick anymore, but his head definitely hurts. ]

To - what? [ A beat. ] I told you about that?

[devoutish]

You don't remember?

[bywolves]

It gets fuzzy around... [ He thinks really hard. ] I remember finding you on the road. Everything past that is fuzzy. I think I remember vomiting off the stairs.

... Sorry.

[devoutish]

Don't know why you're apologizing.

[He fiddles with a strand of Royce's hair, wrapping it around his finger.]

We got you upstairs. I was afraid you were gonna fall.