Hello, my fellow Tangled lovers! Are you ready for another chapter of 'Killing Me Slowly?' Because music is such a big part of my inspiration/writing process, I decided that from here on out, every chapter will have a featured song that I encourage you to listen to after reading. Today's featured song is: In My Veins by Andrew Belle feat. Erin Mccarley. An emotional, beautiful song that I think describes Eugene and Rapunzel's situation really well. I hope you're enjoying the story so far, because the next few chapters are about to get very… interesting, to say the least.

Do I have to include a disclaimer in every chapter? I'm honestly not sure. You guys know I don't own Tangled. At least, I hope you do by now.

Chapter 5: You're In My Veins (And I Cannot Get You Out)

It's the night before the big wedding day.

And he is drunk. Dizzy, self-loathing, and pitifully drunk.

He had allowed Lance to convince him to visit one of the local pubs that night, saying that Eugene needed to 'nurse this heartbreak with a good time.'

That 'good time' resulted in both of them getting wasted and walking home together in the dark.

In hindsight, it hadn't been the best idea. Although, Eugene concludes, he's all out of good ideas, and frankly, tired of 'doing the right thing.' Eugene rarely drank on a work night, but what did he have to lose? His heart hurts, so he might as well let the rest of his body catch up and hurt in the morning, too. His head is already pounding, which means he's making solid progress.

It also probably has something to do with the knocking on his door.

"Fuck." Eugene breathes, having dealt with Lance's escapades enough for one night.

He had all but dragged his friend home, after Lance had decided it would be a good idea to jump up onto the bar and start performing a badly delivered Scottish jig for the rambunctious bar crowd. When the booing started, Eugene knew it was time to go, and he successfully got his closest friend down from the bar, only after reminding Lance that they needed to report for guard duty at 6 a.m. the next morning. They had just returned to their respective rooms no more than five minutes ago. Eugene had already drunkenly taken off his shirt and vest, throwing them to the floor in a careless heap. He was left only in his pants, which Eugene had been struggling to unbutton when the knocking had ensued.

Couldn't a guy just go to bed, sleep off the pain, and deal with the wicked hangover he was guaranteed to face in the morning, in peace?

"Go away, Lance!"

Huffing, Eugene finally undoes a button on his pants, but that's as far as he gets before the knocking ruefully persists. Becoming growingly annoyed, Eugene stalks to the door, swinging it open, fully prepared to cuss Lance out and tell him to go to bed.

But /she/ is standing there, wearing a yellow dress, the color of creamy sunshine, her short hair a little tousled and her eyes slightly heavy, as if she'd been asleep. Eugene can't help but note how pretty she looks in the soft yellow color.

That's exactly what she had been to his life – a steak of pure sunshine in the ever-present darkness that was a life of thievery, manipulating, and bar hopping. Eugene had spent so much of his time looking for something /more/. When he'd found her, he'd known he would never have to search for that unfulfilled satisfaction again.

Now… well.

"Hi." That's all she says, softly. All she /has/ to say, and his knees are weak – weaker than the alcohol ever could have made him.

Eugene clears his throat, resting his increasingly pounding head against the doorframe for a moment, willing the world to stop spinning. If only for a moment, so he can get a good, long look at her, because he isn't sure when he'll get the chance to again after today, if ever.

Close-up viewings of her have been few and far-between lately. It had been three months since everything changed, three months since they'd gotten the news of the marriage. In those three months, they'd barely spent any time together. The last time he'd seen Rapunzel was days ago. Eugene had to quickly explain why he'd punched Charles at the ball last week, before Cassandra tugged her away to finalize the bouquet choice, or something to do with the wedding day.

So, Eugene had gotten accustomed to holding on to every small interaction with her for dear life, as if she would evaporate before him at any moment.

Eugene lifts his eyes to look at her, trying his best to pull himself together, despite the fact that he's all but falling apart at the seams.

"You shouldn't be here, Blondie."

"Yeah… I – I know that. I know it's late, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you, I just –" She picks at her fingernail, seemingly distracted. "I wanted to check up on you. Make sure you were alright."

"I'm great, never been better!" Eugene slaps on a fake smile, which only makes him want to slap himself, because he knows he can't lie to her. "I appreciate you checking in, but I should really get some sleep." He leans back, faking a yawn. "Work tomorrow, and all."

They stare at one another for a long moment, so many unsaid words left in the air, hanging just out of their grasp. Assuming there was nothing left to say, Eugene moves to close the door, but her hand pushes it back quickly, her eyebrows furrowing. Rapunzel steps closer, her nostrils flaring a little, her mouth twisting in confusion.

Shit.

"You smell like…" She shakes her head, as if she's scared to accuse him, scared of being right. "You smell like you're…"

"Drunk?" Eugene finishes for her, his voice dull and empty. He might as well be honest with her. She can be a little naïve sometimes, even completely innocent in some cases, but Rapunzel is definitely not stupid. That's one thing she never has been.

"Yeah."

Rapunzel had never seen the man she loves drunk before. Sure, she'd seen him have a beer or two at the Snuggly Duckling, and he'd let her take a whiff of the strong liquor she'd found in his bedroom. It was the bottle that Eugene kept on hand under his bed for special occasions, and he'd let her smell it, if only to appease her curious spirit. She'd stepped back, holding her nose in surprise at the potent scent, shoving the bottle back into Eugene's hands.

To his surprise, she'd never actually asked to try any of the alcohol for herself, and Rapunzel had certainly never seen Eugene flat out drunk. A little buzzed maybe – buzzed enough to grope her in a closet or in the garden behind some hedges when no one was looking, but never drunk.

In the past year, he had changed completely for the girl standing before him. He had left Flynn Rider in the desert to be eaten by the vultures, and allowed Eugene Fitzherbert to make a reappearance, something he swore to himself he would /never/ do. And for what? Only to be bit in the ass for it, because as it turns out, he was never really going to have a shot at happily ever after with her.

"That's because I am." He smiles lazily at her, ignoring her confused expression, grasping the doorframe in his hand. He's swaying a little now. "Really, really… drunk."

A hand resting on his hip, Eugene tries his best to appear as sober as he can, praying he won't make a total fool of himself. He really does try, although he knows he's failing miserably. She was probably chiding him on the inside for this irresponsible behavior, but Eugene doesn't really care. If Rapunzel has to marry someone else tomorrow, he can get drunk and fall into a pool of self-loathing for the night.

"Oh."

He doesn't say anything in response, just looks at her, trying to focus on steadying himself, rapidly blinking his eyes to will away the ensuing blurriness. His head is swimming – Eugene is a ship lost out at sea, Rapunzel is the beckoning island that would surely save him – and Charles is the rip current tugging him far away from her.

After a heavy silence, she speaks again.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

Eugene had forgotten she was standing there for a second, lost in thought at the image of himself as a ship, being tossed ruthlessly back and forth by the waves.

"Why are you drunk?"

He thinks for a moment, looking to the ceiling, as if the answer to her question will magically appear there.

"For a lot of reasons, I guess. But mostly because I'm sad." He concludes somberly.

"I'm sorry, Eugene. For everything. And I'm sorry that you haven't seen much of me lately. It's been so crazy, what with –"

He knows she means it, the apology, but he doesn't want to hear it. Not now, at least. Rapunzel opens her mouth to say more, her hands reaching out to touch him. Eugene quickly cuts her off before things get more complicated, more painful than they already are.

At least he has the sense to do that.

"You should go."

Rapunzel's hands fall back to her sides slowly, the hurt in her eyes clear as a cloudless day.

"Is that what you want?"

"I think so."

Eugene looks her up and down, drinking her in. God, she's beautiful. And she's standing right there, so close to him. And she always smells like lavender. He loves that about her. He's missed her so much these last three months – her voice, her laugh, their conversations – everything about her, he'd missed it. And she came all the way to his room to make sure he was okay, when /she/ was the one getting forced into an arranged marriage tomorrow. That was sweet of her. She was always so sweet, so caring with him – with everyone around her, really.

And her skin always tastes sweet, too –

"Yes." Eugene concludes, trying to sound sure of himself, although he doesn't even trust his own voice. "I think it would be best if you went back upstairs. Right now."

"Okay."

Eugene isn't sober, not by a long shot, but he's sober enough to register the deep pain in her voice, the way that it cracks of shame and guilt. Something he'd hoped to never make her feel.

Rapunzel turns to leave. But before she does, she looks him in the face, long and hard, her eyes never filled with such genuine emotion. Eugene can guess what she's going to say next, those three simple words that rip at his broken little heart each time she says them.

"I love you."

Eugene groans in response, letting his head fall, resting his forehead against the doorframe once more. This time, in defeat, unable to look at her.

She means it, he knows she does. But he can't take it.

"Please don't say that to me. Not right now."

Rapunzel peers up at him closely. Crap. She had been going, too.

"Why not? It's the truth, and I might never be able to say it again."

"Because I'm /drunk/, Rapunzel." Eugene lifts his head from the doorframe, which feels especially heavy now, looking her in the eye. "I don't deserve for you to come down here, saying that you love me. I'm super drunk, and I'm in love with you, and you look so pretty right now. And if you don't go now, I'm going to kiss you, or maybe do more than kiss you. And I can't do that, because you're getting married tomorrow."

She inches closer, a new emotion flickering in her eyes at his words. Eugene loves that look – loved that look. The look she has when mischief crosses her face, a look for only him to see.

No, they can't do this! It would be wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

"Would it be so bad if you kissed me?"

"Yes, it would be /so/ bad if I kissed you, Rapunzel. As I previously have mentioned, you're drunk and I'm getting married tomorrow." That's not right. "I mean –"

"I know what you meant."

Her arms are crossed over her chest now, a steady look on her face, but a soft look. The princess doesn't seem angry, or even sad. She just looks… patient. Like she loves him.

Like Rapunzel is about to lose something she'll never get back, and she's trying her damn hardest to hold on for dear life, but remain calm all the while.

"It's not like you haven't kissed me at all in the last three months."

"That was different."

"How was it different?"

"I don't know!" Eugene throws his hands up in utter frustration. "Everything is just so… real, now. In less than twenty-four hours, you will be walking down the aisle! We can't… we can't keep doing this to ourselves, we can't get out of this, Rapunzel! We thought we could, we thought maybe we could convince the council to change their minds, but we can't. You don't belong to me anymore." Saying that final statement aloud sends a shock through Eugene, an ache in his stomach that he knows won't be gone in the morning, even if the alcohol in his body is.

She just stares at him, unsure of what to say, the tears welling in her eyes. It kills Eugene to see the person he loves, so sad. It kills him even more to know he can't do anything about it.

"Rapunzel… you need to go."

"I don't want to."

"I want you to."

"I don't believe you."

"I'm not asking you to."

"I think you want me as much as I want you right now."

"Rapunzel, I'm drunk."

"And I love you."

"I don't want you to see me like this."

"I might not see you again!"

The finality of that statement hits Eugene right in the gut, making it hard to breathe, because he knows she's right. But he also knows that what he says next is the right thing.

At least, he prays it is.

"You need to go, Rapunzel. Please."

There's a long silence, a pain that hangs palpably in the air between them, so thick that Eugene swears he could reach out and grasp it in his hands like a heavy raincloud.

"Okay."

That's all she says before disappearing once more into the shadowed hallway, too tired, too defeated to argue with him. Eugene stands there in the doorway for a minute, listening to her delicate bare feet slowly padding up the stone stairwell. When he can't hear her steps echoing any longer, Eugene shuts the door behind him, calmly strides to the window, opens it wide, and throws up.

And he's pretty sure it has nothing to do with the alcohol.

Eugene braces his arm against the window pane, sighing deeply to himself and squinting at the golden hour sunlight that's pouring into the little sitting room overlooking the garden courts.

"I can't believe this is happening."

The handsome former thief feels a reassuring slap on his back.

"It's all gonna be okay, buddy. There has to be /something/ we can do."

Eugene rips his glance away from the courtyard just long enough to look at his burly friend, who continues on in ignorance.

"Hey, I know! When the officiant says that thing, 'Speak now or forever hold your peace,' we could swoop in, and —"

"Do you /want/ to get beheaded?"

"Not really, but I'd risk it for you and the princess."

"Just last week you were telling me that I need to return to my life of crime and let Rapunzel go."

"And I still think that would be the smartest thing to do." Lance places a supportive hand on Eugene's shoulder. "But, as your friend, I'll happily go back to prison if it means you can –"

Eugene lets out a long sigh.

"I think I really fucked up this time, Lance."

Lance's face falls at the sudden abruption, at the overcast look in the eyes of his childhood partner-in-crime. He'd seen Flynn Rider mess up a lot of things over the years: the hearts of innocent girls, the peace of mind of homeowners, the trust of past thieving partners. But the one thing Lance had never seen was Eugene look so utterly, irreversibly heartbroken, and there was nothing he wasn't willing to do to get that devastating look off his best friend's face.

"There wasn't anything you could've done. I mean, none of us saw this coming."

Eugene shakes his head, having already convinced himself that he should've seen the signs, that he should've known his tumultuous past would catch up to him sooner or later, that his past would hurt her. He should've known the blissful way that him and Rapunzel's life had been going for a full year, was simply too good to last.

"I could've done more. I had three months. I could've… fought harder. For her."

The 'her' in question is, of course, Rapunzel, who is standing in the garden courts below, a white dress falling from her shoulders. Eugene can see, even from their overlooking spot in the sitting room, the little white flowers that are woven into her short brown hair. He can see that her feet are bare, in true Rapunzel fashion. Eugene wonders which one of the many maids, the maids perfecting the position of the veil flowing down her back, Rapunzel had to argue with to let that one slide.

Eugene can't help but smile sadly at the image before him, the perfection that was the princess whom he loved so indescribably. Since the day he brought her back to this very palace, he had this image in his mind that he would be the one to watch Rapunzel walk down the aisle toward him in a white dress someday.

But that wasn't the reality of this day. Eugene's new dream had been stripped from him; /she/ had been stripped from him, and now he was standing in the rain without as much as a vest to keep his heart from growing damp, or from freezing over completely.

Today, on the day of her wedding, in which he wouldn't be standing at the other end of the aisle, he was standing here like a pathetic excuse of a man. Because he'd let himself fall in love, and the world was giving him his well-deserved karma in response.

"The two of you did the best that you could."

"She came to my room last night, Lance."

"She did? What did she say?"

"That she loved me. And then I told her if she didn't go, I would kiss her." Eugene gazes longingly at the courtyard, considering how flattering the shape of Rapunzel's dress looks on her – although, she somehow looks beautiful in just about everything. "And I kind of wish I had now."

"Shit, man. I'm sorry."

"Fuck, why didn't I just kiss her? I mean, I'll never get the chance to now. Now she's just… gone. Forever."

There's a long pause before Lance speaks again, as if he's tentative to say what's on his mind.

"You know, buddy… maybe… maybe it just wasn't meant to –"

Eugene whips around to face his friend once more, his eyebrows twisted.

"Don't say it. Don't say that I'm not meant to be with her. Don't try to make me feel better by saying that fate swooped in and gave her what she really deserves."

Eugene looks to the courtyard one last time, at the beautiful brunette girl who looks as miserable as he feels. She stands there, being poked and prodded by a dozen handmaids, her mind filled with the image of Eugene just as much as his is filled with her. Cassandra, who is standing with Rapunzel, her arms crossed, looks up to the window suddenly, and Eugene knows she can see them standing there, watching.

For the first time since he's known her, Eugene swears that Cassandra looks genuinely sad. Really, really sad.

"Hell will freeze over before I ever believe that."

Eugene tosses and turns in bed all that night. He hasn't eaten, and definitely can't sleep. The most he has consumed that evening is half a bottle of whiskey and a never-ending cycle of self-pity.

He had ignored Lance when he'd come pounding at the door, suggesting they take a horseback ride to the Snuggly Duckling and get wasted. Eugene doesn't want that — he doesn't /want/ to get drunk again, per say. He just wants to numb the pain.

He wants to chase the thought of her being with another man, the thought of her married to someone that isn't him.

Eugene tosses again and again, his mattress creaking loudly with each reposition that provides him no relief. He feels shaky all over, partly because he hasn't eaten a thing, and partly because he can't stop imagining Charles taking off Rapunzel's wedding dress.

What if the prince was fucking her right now? What if she was moaning his name this very moment? Would she really do that, after claiming she still loved him? Maybe she would. After all, the reality of the situation was that she was married now, and would be expected to bring successors of the crown into the world as soon as humanly possible.

At that, Eugene sinks his head into his pillow, and cries.