Angel left the lights off, with only the setting sun seeping through the window to illuminate the kitchen. He checked the refrigerator to find a pint of whisky. A bitter-sweet vision. On one hand, he had more liquor than expected, but on the other, it was the only thing left in the fridge. The bright bulb within showed crisp, clinical shelves.

He poured a shot, and went to hunt for a broom. The conversation he had with Nyx spun through his head as he swept. Cleaning provided a much needed distraction.

By the time he got down to his fourth shot, he had begun to scrub and scour the bathroom. His stomach twisted, regretting each time he’d lamented Nyx leaving her brush beside the tap, or her shampoo in the shower. She had left these pieces of herself behind like collateral.

I should have gotten her a drawer or something at least.

Angel wiped strands of her pink hair out of the sink. It occurred to him that it could be for the last time. They’d broken up before, but this time felt.. different. Something had shifted. Ever since he had awoken to her horrified eyes in the backseat, fear clouded her irises whenever she looked at him. Something existential.

I have to fix this.

He washed his hands before moving on to the kitchen. The warm life-force energy no longer seemed as palpable through the fog of liquor. It was as if a thin cotton wall had been placed between himself and that layer of reality. The sensation, or lack-there-of, played tug-o-war within him, unable to decide if he missed it, or was happy to have a break in order to process.

I can’t do this.

Angel scrubbed the baseboard around the bottom of the cupboards. Despite the open windows and slight breeze, the summer humidity thickened the air. He had stripped off his shirt, but the exertion from cleaning made him boil from the inside out. Sweat dampened his forehead, sticking the wisps from his messy bun to his skin.

The lights sizzled and flickered on. Electricity surged and crackled, raising the hair up on his forearms. Heavy foot falls on the front deck made Angel freeze mid scrub.

Shit. Not now. Fuck. Maybe I can run out the back door?

Angel sighed and got up, tossing the sponge into the bucket of soapy water. He took his shirt from around his waist and pulled it on to hide his healed wound.

The front door burst open and Julian barged in, rounding the corner into the living-room. His dark hair was tussled. Blood shot eyes glared in Angel’s direction, but he stayed put beside the counter, bracing himself. His heart thundered in his chest.

“Where the fuck have you been all day?” Julian bellowed. The kitchen light flared as he entered, whistling to extremes. It blared a blinding white. “I spent the morning worried sick about you, and you couldn’t be bothered to come by and tell me you’re ok.”

“I’m sorry, ok, look, I’m fine.”

Julian narrowed his eyes, examining Angel from top to bottom. He had a way of making Angel feel two feet tall, despite having to look at him. “What was all this about a fight then?”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Fuck, I don’t look like I’m even a little bit banged up.

“It was nothing, clearly.”

“Timmy was saying -”

“You believe Timmy? He’s a fucking liar, everyone knows it.” Angel tried to keep his expression and movements casual and easy. Inside, his chest tightened, choking him.

“Watch your tone boy,” Julian growled. “Why was he saying you fought Aluminum Carl, then? Where the hell did that come from?”

“Because I did fight him, but I didn’t lose as badly as everyone thought.” Angel’s mind spun, weaving a tale that would be somewhat close to believable. His nose had been broken several times in the past, and was already slightly crooked, so that might be a good place to start. “I got cracked in the nose and bled a bunch, then Carl knocked me out.”

“Why on earth would you fight Aluminum Carl?” Julian exclaimed.

Angel shrugged. “Money.”

Julian rolled his eyes. “You’re so desperate for cash you’ll risk life and limb, yet skip work because you’re too banged up and hungover to deal with it?”

“That sounds about right,” Angel said.

A sharp slap to the face made his head snap to the side. He blinked away stars, tasting blood in his mouth. Heat rose from deep inside his stomach, but the full sensation was still buffered by the liquor.

“Grow up,” Julian demanded. Electricity crackled around him, causing the lights to flicker and flare. “This same shitty attitude is what got Ember killed, do you understand that? Everything was a game to her. Always pushing boundaries, never listening. She ruined my life, left you as an egg all alone. Is that what you want, to be alone?”

Did you love her at all? Is there anything good in me that makes you think of her?

Angel clenched his fists, but said nothing. He knew better by now. Rage simmered in the center of his chest, leaving him unable to formulate a coherent thought. There was only the heat.

“You had us all thinking you were dead!” Julian yelled. He stepped closer, his face inches away from Angel’s. “Do you have any idea what that's like, to worry about you day in and day out? No wonder Nyx has finally snapped and -”

“Then leave!” Angel screamed through gritted teeth, resisting every urge to shove him. If he started, he wouldn’t stop. “You hate me? You’re so sick and tired of me? Then walk away. You don’t owe me shit anymore, and I sure as fuck don’t owe you anything either.”

Julian’s eyes widened and he took a step back.

“Get the fuck out!”

“Fine then,” growled Julian, turning around and storming toward the front door. “Have it your way Kid, but don’t come crying to me when you’re all alone and fucking miserable. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The front door slammed and Angel flinched.

“Fuck!” he cried to the empty house, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as if he could push the tears back inside.

This has to be the worst day of my life. I wish I didn't come back. It seems everyone would be much happier to mourn me and move on.

His legs could no longer hold him and he slouched to the floor, taking what was left of the whiskey bottle with him, leaning back against the cabinets for support. Angel drank from it directly, suppressing the sensation of life-force even further.

Normally, he’d go find Nyx, but that was out of the question. Even when they’d fought in the past, he’d been able to find refuge with her. They’d put their differences aside long enough for him to vent at least. No matter if they were broken up or not, she’d always been there as a friend, but now he didn’t dare approach her.

Not after what I’ve just put her through. I don’t deserve her anyway.

He stared at the empty bottle in his hand.

This is what I deserve.

Nyx would surely comfort him, but he hated the obligation.

It’s just what she does. Love me. It’s all she ever does.

A fresh batch of tears came upon him and he tried to hold them back to no success. Instead, he decided to throw a party.