Both the sun and Eileen had yet to rise this morning, but that's not to say that Eileen wasn't awake. For the last half hour, she had been rolling in her bed trying to decide if it was more helpful to clutch her head or her chest in pain. The answer was neither. Everything hurt and would continue hurting until she managed to wobble out of bed and do something about it.

That seemed unnecessarily taxing to Eileen, so instead she attempted to remember the previous night whenever her torment ebbed enough to permit. She had no idea what was wrong with her chest, but the headache was most likely a hangover…had she been to a bar? It seemed unlikely. Eileen rarely drank enough to bother her the next day, and the only place that served alcohol around was at Howard's (Laney's father's) restaurant. Eileen liked to believe she knew better than to get full-on drunk there. She faintly clucked her tongue, trying to remember, and detected fruit. The taste was the foothold Eileen's memory needed to climb back to her…

Eileen made an honest attempt to order her normal nightly sponge cake at Howard's restaurant, but Laney (who worked as a waitress there) was more disapproving than usual of Eileen's health choices and refused to take her order. Laney explained that instead she'd prepared some "special" fruit salad she wanted Eileen to try. Not that fruit could sate Eileen's hunger properly, but enough time had passed since the last time she had consumed any that she was curious what the food group tasted like. Laney also seemed to have put a fair amount of time prepping the "specialness" into the fruit. After a half hour of playful banter, Eileen finally consented to trying some if she could follow it with get her sponge cake when the fruit salad's plate was cleared.

So, naturally, Laney found a plate as long as her arm and stacked on the fruit like passengers cramming into the last lifeboat. Eileen saw this as a challenge and accepted. She found that the faster she threw the fruit down her throat, the less she had to taste it. Eileen's throat began to burn, but she just figured the speed eating rubbed her throat enough to irritate it.

Laney watched Eileen with concern; it would be unfortunate if she was forced to break a few of Eileen's ribs preforming the Heimlich on her. She left Eileen to her gorging for two minutes and came back with a pitcher of drink and a large glass. In that time, most of the massive plate's contents had been relocated into Eileen's stomach. Laney filled the glass with a red liquid and set it on the cleared part of the plate. Believing that the drink may help soothe the burning, Eileen chugged it merrily—and proceeded to down the entire glass. Somehow the drink seemed sear her throat rather than appease it, but it tasted like gold and made her feel like a dragon, so down it went into the treasure hoard that was her stomach.

"Wha ees this?" Eileen asked, but she heard her own unnaturally slurred, slow voice and half answered her own question. "Why didjya… oh merry Hell…"

Laney, completely pleased with herself, smiled. "Bet that's the best fruit you've ever had, is it not?"

"Goon. I din't even notice eht wus spiked…I fahgot…"Eileen didn't bother to finish her thought. She was too busy being furious with herself. She had been engrossed in eliminating the food she hadn't been aware of her head dissolving steadily into fuzz.

"You forgot that fruit only feels alcoholic after it has fermented into actual alcohol?"

"Shut face. I mhean I fahgot what drink feels lihke goin' down…"

Laney sat down next to Eileen and sighed. "You don't have to lie to me, you know. Daddy told me you usually have a nightcap if I'm not working. He even helped me make the fruit with your favorite."

"Sahry. Truf is I'm a…I'm more than a little scahred how much I enjoy the it." Eileen looked up into Laney's clear eyes and suddenly felt like going into an emotional rant. "I mhean, is it such a pahrt of my life tha' eym so used to it, tha' it scheemed so normal, tha' I could 'ave so much without it raisin' even a schmall warning flag? Gahd, I though' eyd jus' forgotten wha' fruit was like." Eileen felt herself starting to get teary, so she hastily looked way, but kept talking. "Wouln't yeu know, I don't even lihke the feeling too much? All fuzzy isn't good…jus' enouf to not care enough about th' stressiz an' be happy—cause bein' happy what it's all about right? And the tahste is so, so, so very good, too."

"Really? The vodka I put in there tastes like liquefied paint fumes to me."

"How rude uf it. It's always more like a liqui…liquid-somethin' wahrm hug to me. Yeu know," Eileen continued without inhibition, "I bet it's only that way to yeu 'cause it's jealous."

"Funny; here I thought I had reasonable cause to be jealous of it."

"No, naht at all—"

"You certainly seem to spend more time with a bottle in your hand than in my hand." Seeing Eileen influenced vicariously released some of Laney's suppressed thoughts as well.

"Really?" The idea that Eileen could have neglected to treat Laney properly was panic-inducing. "I'm so, so sahry, Love, I've jus' been scared recently an' it makes me forget how scared I am, but yeu haf tah know tha' being with you makes me feel more afloat than this." Eileen flicked the red-stained glass. "ever could." Eileen paused. Laney has gone very stiff. Eileen tried to search Laney's face for expression, wondering what had caused this reaction, but Laney kept cold and still. She kept quiet and waited for Laney to say something, anything.

After a time, Eileen saw Laney's lips move, but couldn't make out her words. "Wha' is it?"

"What did you call me?" Laney's barely audible question befuddled Eileen, so Laney continued, "Were you merely being British?"

"How do yeu mean?"
"You called me 'Love.' Was that a slip of tongue?"

Eileen's blood ran cold. All the warmth from the spiked fruit cracked icily away. This was not the right way for Laney to find out how Eileen felt, but Eileen couldn't deny it either. "Yes, it was."

"Oh," was all Laney said as she made to stand up, but Eileen reached out and grabbed her hand.

"But that doesn't mean it's not true." Eileen guided Laney to sit very close to her Laney stayed silent, which spurred Eileen onto speak. "I love you so much, so deeply, it scares me. I'm so tightly wrapped around your finger you could point me in whatever direction and I would obey you without question. It's bloody terrifying and I don't know what to do with myself. I've tried to stay away, get a grip on myself and who I used to be, but it hasn't worked. I enjoy how it feels to be close to you far too much. I'm sorry that I've seemed distant recently, and I'm sorry it's in this situation that I'm confessing how I feel, but I promise that I'll get over myself because I would do anything for you."

There was only a few seconds silence for Laney, but a hundred thunderous heart beats for Eileen. Then Laney spoke, "If all that's true, if that's what you really think, then why do you have to choke down most of a bottle of vodka in order to retch it out?"

"Because I've been defensively in denial. Vodka helps me get rid of the walls and know where I'm actually at mentally."

"So you'll just let the bottle talk for you now and then slink back into denial when you're sober."

"That's not what I'm saying—and I feel like you know that or why else prepare this meal for me but to help bring out what I'm really thinking?"

"True." Laney's entire being gave off a vibe of disgusted anger, and Eileen couldn't blame her. She knew she'd been a scumbag recently, and now for her to suddenly declare love while slobbering drunk? It was revolting.

"Please, Lanes, I'm sorry. This is the first time I've ever felt this way and I'm scared stupid. I know I'm not handling this well, but it's not like I'm choosing to be an asshat; accidents just tend to happen when I have no idea what I'm doing and what to do in general."

The disgust pushed inwards and out of view, Laney now assessed Eileen's damp eyes emotionlessly. That was her defense—she shut down emotionally. Eileen knew it not only meant she had caused her pain, but that Laney deemed Eileen not to be worth the pain she'd inflicted.

"I can't express how sorry I am; I didn't know that me staying away would bother you so much." Eileen was full-on crying now. "I didn't think you'd notice, and I'd have time to collect myself."

"You were wrong."

"I know that now, very acutely."

"…"

"I'm so sorry."

"…"

"I didn't realize how not fine we'd gotten."

"…"

"I'll find a way to make it up to you."

"…"

"We can get past this, right?"

"…"

"As long as there's some part of you that cares about me, I'll do whatever I can for you, so please give me a chance."

"…"

"I mean, there are worse things that could have happened between us. This really isn't all that bad."

"…"

"Unless there's an accumulation of things that I don't know about?"

"…"

"I'm sorry I pushed you so far emotionally you felt the need to spike my food rather than ask me directly how I felt."

"…"

"You're being silly."

"…"

"Although, it's probably true that I wouldn't have known how to answer that before now."

"…"

"Looks like you know me better than I know myself, Love."

"…"

"I'm sorry I'm weak now, but I'll get stronger."

"…"

"This is silly."

"…"

"I don't know how to interpret your silence into words."

"…"

"For God's sake, please let me know where we stand."

"Where we stand, Eileen?"

"Yes, please."

"I love you, too. Goodbye."

Eileen found that her chest, her heart, hurt considerably more than her head and clutched all of her limbs to it.