Peter stared at the glass in his hand it was empty again. Letting his eyes glide slowly across the counter lay landed on the bottle, almost empty as well. Peter took a deep breath and let go of the glass, wobbling as he stepped back and found he needed to lean back against the opposite kitchen counter before he lost all balance and fell to the tiles. He was a state, even he had to admit that maybe tonight he'd pushed his drinking to the extreme, but he knew now other way to forget the guilt he was feeling.
He'd seen Carla's battered body that morning and he'd seen her drag herself home from the factory looking as if she was in extreme pain. He felt absolutely terrible and knew he'd have to make it up to her so he started thinking of ways he could. Peter always deluded himself that when drunk he had the best ideas and then one struck him, if he wanted to win Carla round he'd have to show her just how much he loved her.
Carla was still awake, she'd done nothing but listen to Peter groaning and clinking the bottle against the glass as he drunk himself into a worse state. She wasn't sure if it was fear keeping her awake or concern but whichever it was she didn't appreciate the sentiment. Rounding her shoulders she snuggled further into the duvet trying to seek further comfort whilst still catching odd whiffs of Liam's scent from his t-shirt. The smell alone was comforting and in some way made her feel like he was there with her, to protect her from falling victim again to Peter's bad attitude.
Closing her eyes Carla tried to let herself relax and block out any sounds that had been coming from the living room but suddenly it was eerily quiet. She tried hard to ignore her thoughts as they ran through all the things that Peter could be doing silently or what might of happened to him. It was the last thing she wanted tonight, she needed a good nights rest and wished to slip off into wonderful dreams and memories of Liam but this was proving ever impossible.
Peter eventually began to stumble forward and out of the kitchenette, his shoes squeaking awkwardly on the floor and the cracking of plastic and glass as he began again to trample the broken possessions scattered upon the floor. His vision was blurred as he walked towards the bedroom, his hand gently brushing along the wall as he used it for a guide and to keep himself steady on his feet. Upon reaching the door he paused and took a deep breath hoping he would still find Carla here and that she hadn't done a runner.
The door creaked from the hinges as Peter pushed it open and peered into the darkness. Carla screwed her eyes tight determined not to open them and invite Peter to start apologising or kicking off at her again. She listened as he tripped and stumbled around the room, desperately in search of the bed. Peter banged into the foot the bed rather carelessly and his knees went weak, flopping down he landed upon the mattress with a thud. Groaning he pulled himself up the sheet and buried his head in the pillow momentarily, revelling in the coldness of the material upon his boiling cheeks as he groaned appreciatively.
After a while he lifted his heavy head from the pillow and with blurred vision looked to his left where Carla lay with her back to him, appearing as though she was sleeping peacefully. He shifted his body and lay on his left side as he slowly reached out his hand to lightly touch Carla's arm. As his fingers landed upon her silky, but slightly cold skin he felt her flinch, she was awake.
"Carla, baby you awake?" he slurred gently as he propped himself up on his other elbow and shuffled across trying to snuggle close into her back. He sensed her body tensing as he moved closer and felt frustrated by her behaviour. Lifting his hand from her arm he reached for her hair, letting his hand lightly brush her cheek as he pushed it back behind her ear. Then leaning over he kissed her cheek sloppily with his sticky lips from the whisky he'd consumed.
Carla's eyes instantly flew open as she rolled onto her back, her breathing once again shallow as her chest rose and fell gently beneath the sheet. She stared up at his wide eyes staring down at her and froze, anxious of what would follow. Just because he seemed affectionate now didn't mean that he couldn't lose his temper again at any second. He was drunk, really really drunk, and she could smell the sweet whisky on his breath. The smell was enough to make her physically gag but she couldn't help wishing she'd had an equal dosage of the same poison, after all it would certainly make the whole evening seem easier. Life was always better after a drink and she swore by what she had once told Leanne, she definitely preferred life through beer goggles.
"I'm sorry baby, I love you" Whispered Peter, again slurring every word as he hovered part over her body, wobbling and looking as if he was going to collapse upon her at any second. His warm, sticky breath beat down on her face as they stayed locked in a silent stare and she tried to anticipate what might happen next.
Peter lifted his arm and placed it down the opposite side of Carla's body, steadying himself he then lifted his leg up and over her body, sloppily catching the top of her leg with his knee as he moved. He saw her wince as he stared back down at her although Carla had tried to hide her reaction to his clumsiness. Leaning down he kissed her lifts softly and then retreating so as to see her reaction. She was smiling but weakly, leaning down again and with a bit more force Peter kissed her hard.
Their lips locked this time, Carla actively engaging herself in the activity and Peter knew it was a breakthrough. Using one hand to support himself he started to run his hand the length of Carla's torso, the whole time trying not to collapse in a drunken heap upon her. He wanted so much to be intimate with her and make up for all his actions the previous night, he knew now that he had been out of control and blamed Carla wrongly.
Together their bodies started to contour to one another's and they responded to each other's actions. Carla's body had tensed ever so slightly as Peter continued to explore, but not because she didn't want to be intimate with him, it was the pain. Each bruise that his fingers brushed over caused her to harshly inhale through clenched teeth. Peter ignored it the first few times but as it continued he realised he was only hurting the women he loved further. Removing his hands he pulled himself off of her and let out a deep breath as he flopped back down on the bed beside her.
What else could he do, he had apologised and thought he had at least tried his best, he'd also tried to show her but was unable due to his own stupidity the night before. Reaching his arm out he rested it on the pillow just above Carla's head and motioned for her to snuggle in tight. Carla wanted the comfort, edging slowly she nestled herself against Peter and gently rested her head on his shoulder. The couple stayed silent as they got used to their position. Peter however noticed a faint whiff of an aftershave from Carla and it was one he didn't recognise as his own. His drunken mind jumped straight to other conclusions and he shoved her violently away from him back to her own side of the bed. Carla cried out from the pain and stared back at Peter suddenly confused.
"What's…" she stuttered not able to finish her sentence.
"Who is he Carla? Come on who is he?" yelled Peter as he quickly removed himself and stood with authority beside the bed.