Novel & Cerita Are Drunk Words Sober Thoughts

Chapter 93 Lucas's Pov I barely registered the blur of movement across the street, just a hazy figure that looked a lot like Sienna. But I was far too drunk to care, too drunk to even think clearly. The bar was loud, the dim lights seemed to pulse with each beat of the music, and the clinking of glasses around me felt muffled. I was buried in the weight of my own thoughts, drowning in frustration, stress, and alcohol. The thought of the wedding, my job, the dwindling state of my career, all of it spiraled around me until the drink in my hand was the only thing keeping me grounded.

Mia says , I rub my chin in contemplating , right now I couldn't think of anything wrong with that idea but I couldn't help a little tiny part of me that feels that whatever we are planning on doing is wrong. "Well, I think it's great, but I think we should ask our sober selves later on, "I say. I begin to for a piece of paper. We realized one day that we come up with dumb ideas when we are drunk so it has been a tradition to have a paper and pen on hand when we knew we were getting drunk. "ok found it , wrote it ,anything else?" I ask after I find a piece of paper and a pen and writing down 'us ruining his life 'on the note .

"What does that mean? Like you don't plan to drink tonight or you never ever drink?" Discomfort slithered down my spine as I remembered how this conversation had gone down with my old team after one of our rare wins. suffice to say, they hadn't been impressed with my sobriety, viewing it as me being lofty rather than a personal decision that had absolutely nothing to do with them. "Never." I replied. "Why the hell not?" Sammy blinked at me. "It's just one drink, man. It's not going to kill you. You can't_"

I wanted a blunt instrument to knock my brain offline. I sat in a dark corner booth and drank. One glass. Two glasses. Three. I kept drinking and drinking, tilting the cheap burning alcohol back until the sharp, irritating edges of my thoughts began to blur. I drank until I finally felt numb, until the calculation in my brain slowed down to a dull, manageable static. By the time I stumbled back out to the Jeep, the sky had completely changed. It was late afternoon, turning into evening—the actual time when normal people started drinking, not when they finished.

I had been through hours of this shit already, and it wasn’t letting up. My fingers curled into my palm. If I was still feeling like this, then self-control was a fucking myth. I wasn’t drunk. Not yet. But I was buzzing, and the slow burn of alcohol in my veins made it easier to breathe. Easier to not think about Tobias and the problem he was dragging home. Easier to not think about the fact that I hadn’t fucked in weeks because every damn time I tried, all I could think about was— Knock. Knock.

I could see it in his eyes and the way he bit down on his lower lip. “You’re shitfaced, angel. It’s not going to happen.” “Your loss,” I sang, closing my eyes. “You may never have this chance again.” He chuckled in a low rasp. “I have no idea what you mean by that, seeing as you’re throwing yourself at me like a cat in heat. Drunk thoughts are sober wants, or so it’s said.” “I want to kill you when I’m sober.” The same way he’d killed my brother. “I know.”

But why do my sentiments crash with his look right now? Then again, he is full of alcohol. I told you that people utter pure nonsense when they are tipsy. I was right. The sober version of this monster would be strangling me to death right this minute, but listen to this drunk self. Wait until he sobers up and ask him to repeat what he said. He won't remember even a single word of it. Disgusting thing! "You are the why, Gia!" He murmurs sofly, boring his bored, saggy eyes into mine as if there is any meaning to what he is saying.

Samael sipped it aimlessly. “Where did it go, Sam?” I imagined ribs drenched in ice cubes. Where you all go. The abyss. How do you think chaos works? I get raging drunk. Drunk, off your little sparkling souls... “I think you're an alcoholic.” Only because of you. You're the death of me. My end.

He stood by the bar, debating on whether or not to pour himself a drink before speaking up. “Do you think that it would be rational for me to drink, drink, and drink until I was knocked out? Would I not remember all of this when I’m sober again? Would I wake up from this nightmare?” He asked, not turning to face me. I took a step toward him, my heart throbbing with each step I took, and standing by his side, I put my hand over his bloodied one, closing my eyes when he tried removing it.