Yeah...so...I was bored in health and we were talking about alcohol poisoning and this happened. So yeah, enjoy?
The black coffee left a bitter taste on his lips, his tongue, the roof of his mouth. It reminded him of beer and scotch, the mug of tinted bottles.
Dean didn't always like the taste of a drink, he mused, shaking open the newspaper. (CAN SUGAR CAUSE CANCER? The headline read.) He remembered his first night in a bar, a hunter's bar. Barely fifteen and trying to hide the wince as the foul stuff burned a path down his throat. The hunter sitting next to him had laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "It's an acquired taste," he'd said.
So Dean acquired it, acquired it until he required it like his old man did, like Sammy probably would. He had twenty years to practice ignoring the burn and nursing the bottle between his lips.
Funny how all it took was a dusty old warehouse to ruin his twenty year habit (addiction). How easy it was to toss his leather jacket on his bed (his bed) in favour of a blue robe and a soft t-shirt. To leave the liquor in the impala and brew an extra pot.
It was worth it, though, he thought, turning the page, bringing the mug to his lips, to forfeit the numbness the amber liquid brought in exchange for the smiles Sammy gave him when he bit into one of those home-made burgers.
Yay! Health class! So, if you happen to like this and want to see anything written in drabble form, put it in a review or send me a message and I'll see what I can do!
Review please :D ~ bree