It started with a single can of beer. Her father would barely notice it was gone. He'd probably just think he'd forgotten how many he'd had one night, or maybe one of his buddies had taken one more than he'd thought. It was only one.
The aluminum was cold yet sweet against her skin, perspiring in the change of temperature from the cooler to her hand. The actual drink was bitter and fizzy, yet smooth. It left a sour taste in her mouth. Finishing took a little will power, but that was nothing. Afterwards all she felt was a little 'goofy', as she put it, but she could tell she wasn't drunk. She wasn't slurring any words or stumbling about, and she could remember everything from her middle name to the capital of Hungary.
In conclusion, it wasn't so bad. She actually felt kind of happy. It was… nice.
She'd only meant to do it once, just to prove she could. To show the other kids that she drank beer too; she was cool too. But… she didn't mind the taste, really, and she could get used to it, but… she wanted that feeling again. It wasn't like she was getting drunk or anything – she just wanted to feel… lighter. Yeah, that was it. It made her feel lighter, and more open. She just wanted to feel that way again.
And so… she took another. And another. And when her dad finally started noticing, the lying was almost too natural; but she knew that she couldn't lie forever. For a minute or two, she lay awake in her bed, panicking. She was in complete control of course, she could stop whenever she wanted to, but she didn't want to quit just yet. But she also couldn't keep stealing beer and lying to her parents. She needed another solution to her pro – no, it wasn't a problem! Just a… a… a question! A question that she was trying to answer. She didn't have a problem.
She ended up simply sneaking out and buying it from late-night convenience stores. The kids there never minded, as long as they got money they were cool with it. Occasionally she'd had to pay a little extra, but she didn't mind. As long as she got what she was after.
She only ever drank one at a time, never two in one day. She liked to take it slowly, savour the flavour and texture. She learned about different brews and tastes, and found her favourites. German beer was her favourite, but she liked Belgian too.
The real pro – issue, started when one convenience store clerk decided he didn't want money. He said if she was so desperate for her beer, then she'd be willing to do a little something… more for him. Her instincts were on fire and the situation was riddled with red flags, but… she wasn't leaving without her beer. If nothing else, she was stubborn. So, at the guy's word, she took her shirt off. He sighed, walking towards her and feeling her chest, but no matter how disgusted she felt she tried not to think about it. She tried to focus on how good the beer would taste and how happy she would be when this was over and she finally got it. He tried to kiss her, but she pushed him away.
"That wasn't in our deal." "Ah, I suppose you're right. Fine; maybe next time~." She was sure there would never be a next time; that was the last time she would go to that particular store. He got the beer as she put her shirt back on. Their hands brushed as he handed her the box, and he stole a kiss on her cheek before she could leave. She gagged, not even bothering to try and hide it, but it only made him smirk. "'Night, girly~."
She swore she would never do anything like that again, but… apparently the sleaze-ball had friends. The next store she went to when that beer ran out, she ran into the same problem, but with a different guy. He had the beer in his hand, but he held it just out of her reach, grinning too mischievously for her liking. "A buddy o' mine told me you don't mind… favours~." "Who the hell told you that?" she growled, but he just laughed. "Don't you like free things? C'mon, I'll give it to you for free, all you have to do is…"
Honestly, she'd rather pay. She didn't like this, she didn't like this at all. But she also knew that now that the option was open, no night clerk would bother taking her money anymore. What started with a shirt, lead to her bra. Pants. Underwear. It was pathetic, really; whoring herself out for beer. But… she guessed it could be worse. Somehow…
Things changed a little bit, when she met this new kid at school. Gilbert. He was kind of goofy too, but it was cute. They'd really only met because some bullies were giving his younger brother a hard time, so they'd both decided to help him out. Actually, she'd probably been more help than he had, but she didn't draw attention to the matter. Much.
It was no secret that they liked each other, though they tried to pretend like it was. Actually, Gil probably didn't figure it out until he'd finally worked up the gal to ask her out and she'd said yes. He was so happy then… she'd liked seeing him happy. He'd been… less happy, when he'd discovered her secret.
He'd only found one; a single can of beer. He'd picked it up, grinning a bit. "Oi! What're you doing with this?" He'd teased, waving it in front of her face. She snatched it from him, grinning herself. "What, you have a problem with this?" She held up the can, popping the top with a flourish before taking a gulp. He watched her with wide eyes. "Do you… like it?" She nodded, watching him for his reaction. He simply grinned. "Yahoo! I've never met a girl that liked beer! Got any more?" She nodded, getting up and grabbing a six pack from the cooler hidden in her closet, handing him one.
That was the first time she ever drank more than one. They each drank three, but she hardly noticed. Besides, she didn't mind sharing her beer with Gil. He was cool. They were cool together. And, neither woke up with a hangover, so she assumed they didn't overdo it. Actually… they didn't sleep together or anything, but she'd woken up in his arms, and for the first time… she'd felt safe, and happy. Kind of like the feeling she'd had the first time she'd had a beer, only warmer. Better.
She didn't really want to – it felt too much like she was using him – but she asked Gil to start getting her beer for her. She didn't ask him all the time, just on occasion. He didn't find out how she got her beer until there was an incident….
"Oi, what's this…?" A clerk pulled a long brown hair off of Gil's shirt, holding it up to the grey lights to see it better. "Looks like that one chick's hair… she likes this brand too, don't she?" Though Gil wasn't sure if he was actually talking to him or not. "Who are you talking about? I just want my beer, man." "Hm… what's her name? Ellie, Edna… Eliza! Elizaveta, right?" Gil's blood froze. "W-what… the hell…?" "You fucking her too?"
The cops weren't called that night, though she would never forgive herself for causing Gil pain. Besides the emotional pain of course, he'd gotten his hand hurt pretty bad too. Well, the other guy wasn't exactly lucky… "Don't you – or any of your disgusting pals, for that matter! Don't you ever touch my Lizzy ever again, or I'll break a lot more than your nose, y'hear?!"
Gil had always been intense like that, and she liked that about him. She knew those bastards would leave her alone. But she also knew her secret was out. All he said – all he'd need to say – amounted up to three words. And not the three she'd dreamed of hearing. "So un-awesome, Liz."
By some miracle, he'd stayed with her, but he couldn't be with her anymore. He said he just couldn't deal with it. That was the night she drank more than a single can. More than three cans. A lot more. And, by some miracle too, she didn't get alcohol poisoning. But what she did get was a huge, hideous headache. Gil had stopped by when she hadn't shown up at school, just to see how she was doing. She'd told her parents to leave her alone, so they did. As far as they knew, they had nothing to worry about.
When she didn't get up to open the door, instead whining and telling him to go away, he used a bobby pin to pick the lock. He'd learned the trick from his friend Francis, back when they were children – without a care in the world. He shut the door quietly behind him, glaring at Eliza though she had an arm slung over her eyes. Empty beer cans lay scattered across the floor. He knelt by her bedside, roughly gripping her chin and turning her to face him.
"Lizzy… how much did you drink?" "Just a bit - " "I mean before I came around. How long have you been drinking, and how much at a time?" She looked away; things were finally starting to fall together – in that, she was finally starting to see the truth – that she was falling apart. "A-about a beer a day, maybe a year…" She barely managed to whisper the words, feeling ashamed. Gilbert ran a hand through his snowy hair, exhaling slowly through his nose, concern lining his blood red eyes. "I think that's bad." "It's not that bad…" "This has to stop."
She glared at him, uttering a bit bitterly. "What, the drinking or the you being my friend part? I never asked for you to be involved in my personal affairs, so I don't think you have a say on either issue. Please leave." He gave her a stern look, though she could tell she'd hurt him, even just a little. Instantly she regretted it, but there was no way she could go back on her words now. Fortunately, he knew that; because if nothing else, he was just as stubborn as she was. Instead, Gil planted himself in front of the door, crossing his arms and preparing for battle.
"You know I'm not leaving. Not now." "What do you mean 'now'? Would you have left before?" He thought for a moment. That was another thing she liked, and if it weren't for the circumstances, she would have smiled. Gil… well, usually took the time to think before he spoke. At least when it came to her. Well, at least when it counted. And his thinking face was positively adorable. "I don't know; probably not. But that is what got us in this mess in the first place." He nodded to the empty cans on the floor; she would've argued, but she also knew he was right. And with her head pounding the way it was, she couldn't come up with a decent argument at the moment.
"What are you going to do? Stand there forever?" "If that's what it takes." She couldn't help but stare at him in disbelief. "W-well we need a real solution… wait – why do you even care?" He shrugged all shy-like; it was really hard to stay mad at the kid when he was acting like some bashful middle school boy. Hell, it was hard to stay mad at him at all. "B-because… u-uhm I'm just so awesome I care about you and stuff a-and I think you're pretty awesome so I want you to quit doing un-awesome things because y-you're too awesome for un-awesome things a-and - " she sighed. "Un-awesome isn't exactly a word, Gil." He stuck his chest out. "I'm so awesome I made it a word."
She only sighed again. "You really should just leave… this isn't your mess." "I told you, I'm not leaving. And if you still want me to leave, even when you're better, than I'll go… but only when you're better!" She bit her lip, getting a bad feeling (and not just from the copious amount of alcohol she'd consumed). "What do you mean… better?" His eyes softened, and he looked away. Panic started to cut through the haze in her brain. "I-I'm gonna get you help, Lizzy…"
They argued for a while, Elizaveta stating over and over again that she didn't have a problem, and therefore didn't need help. But damn it if Gil didn't argue right back, and for such a pale brat he held his ground remarkably well. All the yelling wasn't exactly helping her headache either, but Gil was merciless in that respect. He told her she needed to feel the consequences of what she'd done.
She'd watched from her bed as he cleared out the empty cans, underneath all her bravado feeling kind of bad for making him clean up. Then again, she'd never asked him to do it; she hadn't asked for any of this. She was so lost in her own thoughts she almost didn't notice when he moved to the closet, pushing the clothes aside until her cooler was revealed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she cried, forcing herself to stand even though her head spun and her stomach felt sour. "I told you – this has to stop." He stated simply, looking her dead in the eyes with his brilliant red ones as he grasped the cooler and picked it up.
Before she could fully process what she was doing, she threw a fist at him. It hit him square on his temple, knocking him a step back purely out of surprise. She swung at him again, but her movements were sloppy and off balance – it was easy for him to dodge her, and soon he had her arms pinned behind her back. She struggled against him, but he held her fast; when the hell did he get so strong? "Don't do this." She growled. "Tough luck, Lizzy." "Let me go, or I'll – I'll scream!" "And what? You know what'll happen if your parents find out. I'm only trying to help you, Elizaveta – without the police or some shitty rehab place getting involved." She stopped at that, eyes widening in horror as it started to sink in. He was right though, and she hated it. It didn't matter whether she believed she had a problem or not – if her parents found out, they'd put her in rehab faster than she could bat an eyelash.
He sat her back on the bed and she watched as he took her precious cooler away, but already she was formulating plans around this new roadblock. However, Gil figured it out all too quick. "I know you pretty well, Lizzy. I know what you look like when you're thinking." He sat beside her on the bed, but only put an arm around her when she tried to move away. He looked her in the eyes. "And I know what alcoholics think in these sorts of situations." "But I'm not - " "There's no point in arguing!" He grinned softly, a little sadly. "I grew up with a bunch of alcoholics, okay? So don't tell me I don't know one when I see one, and don't tell me I don't know what to do or anything. Okay? I'm going to help you, whether you want it or not."
Damn it all if everything that came out of his mouth didn't start another argument, but he seemed prepared for that. Shit; she'd known he hadn't grown up in the best of homes, but he'd never given her any details. She gave out arguments and excuses, but he wouldn't budge. When she finally gave up, too exhausted to go on, she was almost surprised to look outside and realise that not only had the sun gone down, but the moon had risen to take its place.
"Don't you have to go home?" "The first night's the hardest. I have sleeping pills though, if you need 'em." "S-sleeping pills?" "Yeah. You have to detox, and it can be pretty harsh on some people… I'll be right here though, okay?" She stared at him in disbelief for the second time that day; what the hell was he talking about? But she was also too tired to get into another argument. "I think I'll be okay." He nodded, but still looked skeptical. Whatever, she didn't care. He was the one that had decided to get all wrapped up in her business anyways.
Bugs. All over her – inside of her! They were in her lungs, choking her, suffocating her! They were in her stomach – she had to get them out, she couldn't take this.
But when she opened her eyes, there were no bugs. She was kneeling over a toilet, clinging to the bowl. She jumped when she felt someone patting her back, but realised that it must also be the person so kindly holding her hair back. It was kind of comforting even, knowing someone was there. They were whispering soothing words, but she could barely hear anything over the ringing in her ears. She peeked in the bowl, instantly regretting it. Had that disgusting brown sludge really come out if her? A towel was wrapped around her shoulders and her mouth wiped with a cloth. "Best brush your teeth. I'll clean up."
The night passed in bouts of fitful sleep, nightmares, and hallucinations. Elizaveta would hate to admit it, but she felt powerless and pathetic – she was at the mercy of whatever was happening to her body. The next time she woke up, she was pinned under him. "Get off of me!" she screamed, kneeing him in the stomach; she couldn't quite make out his face, the sunlight was too bright. Her captor groaned in pain but didn't budge.
"Hey, Lizzy, it's just me, okay?" she recognized the voice, but couldn't quite place it. "W-who…?" Her voice sounded so weak and trembling, she hated it. "Gil – Gilbert Beilshmidt, your boyfriend." Suddenly, she felt emotional; the day before's events slowly started coming back to her. "I-I thought that was all over…" He kissed her forehead. "Nah, you're too awesome for me to break up with~." He grinned, but she shook her head, feeling her throat tense up. "I-I'm n-not awesome at a-all…" He shifted onto his side, sitting up and stroking her hair out of her face. "Sure you are. You just need a little help is all…"
"Gil…?" "Yeah?" "Why… why are you doing this? And don't say because you're awesome; I want a real reason." "But I am awesome!" She rolled her eyes, but smiled a bit. He sighed. "Well, I've seen this sort of thing a lot, so I know what to do, and I know it's not easy and you need help, but I still know what to do, so really I just want to help. I mean, I like you and you mean a lot to me and stuff, and I don't want to see you end up like anyone in my family or anything, because that stuff's screwed up and stuff. I just… I want to see you get better, and get back to your awesome self, y'know?"
His smile was so cute, but as her eyes focused she couldn't help but notice the small bruises on his light skin. Her hand trembling, she reached out and touched one gently, but he caught her hand. "Don't worry about it, love. I've had worse." He grinned again, squeezing her hand, but this time she felt tears springing to her eyes. "Gil?" "Yeah?" He wiped away some of her tears, concern in his eyes. "Save me."
"Hey, I'm your knight in shining armor, okay? Saving you is what I'm here for." He lay back down beside her, pulling her into his arms. "You slept here?" She asked quietly, studying the fabric of his shirt. He nodded. "A-and… my parents didn't notice?" "They did, but I told them you were just sick, and I didn't mind taking care of you. They seemed to buy it." She shivered in his arms; so, they really didn't care then. He rubbed her back, trying to sooth her. "I'm sorry for putting you through all this…" "It's okay, really, it is. I told you, I've been through worse." "Worse?" "Yeah. Hell, I helped my uncle through detox, and he ended up breaking my nose." "God…" she muttered, drawing a bit closer to him, as if to make sure he was still there and okay. He set his chin on the top of her head, enjoying the moment despite the circumstances. "It's okay, Elizaveta. I'm fine now. After all, I'm here with you. What could be more awesome? Kesese!" "If I was better…" "Hey… you'll get better, okay?"
And he was right. A few more fights, bruises, and sleepless nights later, Elizaveta was feeling better. Gil sighed, flopping down on his own bed, rubbing his sore shoulder where Lizzy had clipped him. He had decided to let her see his house, finally. She looked around, smiling; it was smaller than hers and messier (after all, there wasn't a single girl in the house), but it felt more... home-y. It wasn't big, but it also wasn't empty or lonely, or god forbid – quiet. She liked it, dirty socks and all.
Gil ran his hand through his hair, looking embarrassed. "S-sorry for the mess and all; I told my brother to clean up, but I guess he was out with his friends or something and ended up not getting it done which is so unlike him but at least he's making some friends I mean it's only two but that's a start - " It was chaste and short, but it had the right affect. "It's fine, Gil. Actually, I don't mind." And with that she kissed him again.
She'd had a problem. She could admit that now. She'd had a problem, but he'd helped her fix it. All it took was two simple words. Save me. And he'd kept his promise; he'd stuck with her, through thick and thin. When she'd needed rescuing, he'd been her knight. What could be more awesome?
"Thanks, for everything." "No problem." "Gil?" "Yeah?" "…Why?" He kissed her nose. "Ich liebe dich."
"Szeretlek."
…
A/N: Sorry if I messed up any of the medical stuff. Oi, if you see a problem, please tell me and I'll change it to the best of my ability. That last thing Elizaveta/Hungary says is supposed to be 'I love you', but I don't speak Hungarian and we all know how reliable the internet is. Sayonara.