Wifebeaters and Vodka
Disclaimer- Not mine, but the idea is and the idea is...strange. Don't ask where it came from because I've got a lot going on up in my brain, soum...enjoy. one-shot
The wifebeater knew that someday it would be replaced.
Probably with a v-neck shirt or something.
He would stop wearing them because it had a stain.
Or maybe he would just grow tired of the same old look.
Gasp.
To think of the horror.
Maybe those thin cotton shirts just fit him more snugly.
And maybe that vodka rim fit his lips a little more perfectly than it did on hers.
It always came back to that.
He wore the wifebeaters and she drank the vodka.
That's how it worked.
That's how they worked.
Her lips had finally escaped the thirst quenching taste but had now they been burned into his.
He had a moment of weakness, turning to the bottle.
And now she stared at his drawers, looking at the variety of wifebeaters that lay before her eyes, she slipped one over her black bra and walked over to him.
Examining his half concious body, she sighed.
No shirt, navy blue jeans and an empty vodka bottle placed perfectly in his palm.
Maybe they had switched roles.
But just for a little while.
After all, the wifebeaters had to make an appearance once in a while and there had to be vodka lying around somewhere.
END
Confusing as hell? Sorry about that...