The smoke-spot visits become a little more regular after that. Things stabilize between them, and Aria can tell that whatever strangeness had enveloped them both for a few months had dissipated. She thinks of him in brief pockets over the course of her days.
One day in October, Aria finds herself being invited to dinner with Amata. It's strange and a little surreal if she's being realistic with herself. They hadn't spoken in so long it almost felt like they would never speak again.
They go to the diner, and Aria is thankful that she has the night off. It would be all too embarrassing to have to serve dinner.
"How have you been? I miss seeing you." Amata says over a plate of salisbury steak and mashed potatoes. Aria smiles into her soup. It was difficult to really say what in particular was making it so difficult to talk. It felt like there was lump of cotton lurking deep in the back of her throat.
"I miss seeing you too," Aria tells her. "My life is so boring in comparison to your's."
"That's not true! Your life is so exciting!" Amata tries to comfort her, but Aria sees through it pretty clearly. It's a thinly veiled attempt at persuasion, and Aria can barely contain her rage at the thought that Amata was only in this for a favor.
"What do you want, Amata?" Aria asks.
"What?" Amata seems taken aback.
"You haven't talked to me in a few months and now all of the sudden you're telling me that you miss me and that my life is exciting? Please, I know what you're doing. What do you want? You want me to fix something? You want me to tell all my dirty little secrets to your father?"
"What?" Amata repeats, her eyes widening.
"I'm sick of you treating me like a chew toy. Chewing me up and spitting me out when you're done with me. It's annoying! Friends are supposed to be there for each other all the time, not just when it's convenient!"
"I know that-"
"Then why are you talking to me!?" Aria bursts. She is thankful there's no one else in the diner. An argument between the doc's daughter and the Overseer's daughter was the last rumor that needed to get spread around.
Amata says nothing but rather just stands up with a look of petulant anger upon her face.
"I wanted to see you." She says quietly, before standing up and storming out.
Aria sits there in disbelief, unsure of whether to take the story at face-value or not. On one hand, it could just be an ass-cover. On the other hand, it could have been legitimate, and Aria could have just made a complete and total ass of herself.
She sighs and slumps back in the chair.
The vault was getting to her, she was sure. She had spent seventeen and a half years of her life in this hellish hole with the same goddamned people and the same goddamned walls and the same goddamned food. Aria could only think of one thing to do.
She grabs some of the whiskey and scotch out of the diner's refrigerator and clambers down to the smoke-spot. There was some dim hope in her that Butch would be down here and that he would stop her from making stupid decisions, but if she was being honest with herself he would probably tell her to pound them down.
So she does, beginning with the whiskey. It's difficult and sticky and thick, and Aria has never struggled in consuming something before like this in her life. The liquid is warm in her lungs and for a moment, Aria thinks she might die.
But no, it's not in her lungs. It's just in her stomach. And it settles there among nothing else.
It takes her about thirty minutes to get really truly drunk, and she feels fine. Finer than she's ever felt before. The world seems different than before, not better and not worse, just different. The whiskey is gone, and she looks at the scotch with wild eyes. Maybe it would be good to drink it all now, or maybe it would be good to just ignore it. She leans against one of the crates and feels the hard plastic against the back of her head. It's cold and she's so very warm. Her face feels hot and her hands feel clumsy. She doesn't stand up for fear that she may topple over a thousand times.
Before she can really so anything about it, there is a strange wetness to her cheeks. Aria touches her face like a child and realizes that she is crying. It's funny so why is she crying. Someone enters the room, and she feels like maybe she should care just in case it's Jonas or-God forbid-her father.
But it's just Butch. She's not surprised.
"What the hell are you doing?" He asks. And he looks so nice and bright standing above her in his leather jacket. She remembers his smell and wishes for it once more so she holds her hand out to him and motions for him to sit with her.
"Let me just see you," Aria slurs.
"What the fuck does that even mean?" Butch asks. Without hesitation however, he takes a seat in front of her, closer than usual, and crosses his legs. She puts her hand on his forearm and squeezes.
"That's really great, Butch. Your arm. It's nice." Aria smiles as she studies her little, tan hand against his leather.
"I work out." Butch says comically. Aria laughs a little too hard and smiles up at him and for once her lips don't crack open.
"No," Aria shakes her head. "Snakes don't work out because snakes don't have arms. And you're a snake remember?"
He knows that even in the state that she's currently in, she's still making fun of him. Butch isn't sure if he should be offended or if he should just shake it off.
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, nosebleed."
"Why do you talk to me?" Aria asks.
"What?"
"Why do you still come down here and talk to me? Why does anyone talk to me? I mean I used to think all of these things: I was smart and I was resourceful and I was a problem solver. I thought people wanted to be near me. But nobody does anymore. People don't like me. Why is that? Why wouldn't anyone like me?" Aria pleads. Her grey eyes brim with tears, and Butch notices that her glasses are laying next to her on the floor. She grabs his other forearm and they end up in a rather strange embrace.
"You've been drinking," Butch says, a serious look on his face.
"It's good Butch," Aria nods to herself as she speaks. "It makes me feel like I can talk to you."
"What?" He asks once more.
"Sometimes it's hard to talk to you because I don't know how you're gonna respond. Like when you're with your friends you don't talk to me or you make fun of me or something, but when it's just me and you I feel like we're friends." Aria is talking so slowly that Butch is struggling to understand what she's trying to say. She leans into him a bit, and he can't recall the last time they were this close.
"I don't think we're friend-"
"Then what are we!?" Aria's eyes get wider now.
Butch doesn't know how to respond because they're not friends, and they're certainly not enemies anymore. He couldn't place how he felt about Aria. He could tell her things, things he couldn't tell anyone else before. He liked being near her, but he would never admit it. She was like a port in a storm. He didn't understand exactly how he fel-
She kisses him. Her lips are sloppy and taste like whiskey. Butch doesn't know what the hell he's doing, where to put his hands. It was nosebleed for fuck's sake! How do you kiss your ex-nemesis? She places her little hands around his neck and pulls him in closer. His eyes begin to close and he feels warm.
No, no, no, he's gotta stop and she's drunk and he cannot should not be kissing her.
She starts to slip her tongue in his mouth when he suddenly breaks away.
"Don't," Butch says quietly.
She wipes his spit off of her mouth and looks at him with hurt in her eyes.
"You don't want to," Aria says matter-of-factly.
"You're drunk,"
"I'm not Christine. I don't have boobs or an ass," She begins to cry again. "I'm just a little twerp."
He steps away from her slowly and quietly, heart pounding. How could such a little runt so royally fuck up everything? He stares at her, and she looks back at him through hooded lids, eyelashes low. She looks so fragile and sad from where he's sitting.
Butch leaves her that night, and he doesn't return to the smoke-spot for almost a year.
a/n: Oops! Ever accidentally drunkenly kiss your worst enemy? Happens to me all the time. Sorry for the wait! Thanks for reading.