Hi. I'm sorry for the really short chapter but I have so much going on right now and don't really have much time. However, I feel bad for not updating anything so I hope this will kind of make up for it. As always please read and review, it always makes my day getting those. Also I don't own anything, I really really REALLY to own James's lunchbox... But sadly...
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There are many things Liz could regret, getting drunk on her 18th birthday with her boyfriend and losing her virginity, not spending enough time with Sam when the cancer first appeared, leaving to go to school as soon as he was in remission, but this, going out on a date with Raymond, shouldn't be one of them.
As soon as she walked through her apartment door, she pressed her back against the wood and slid down in a puddle of heartbreak and anger toward that man. Weeks of endless teasing from her coworkers with their "grandpa" comments she dealt with after they witnessed her shamelessly flirting with him. To lead her to what? This? This undeniable pain and strange feeling coursing through her bloodstream. Is this what heartbreak feels like? Helpless and floundering? A sharp tingling in her heart radiating throughout the rest of her body left her feeling just that; helpless and floundering for a man who wanted nothing to do with her.
How was she supposed to feel after being rejected by that man? He came onto her first! It wasn't as if she threw herself at him. No! He made the first move and after she started reciprocating those flirts and comments he did nothing to stop them but instead took them and retorted with ones of his own. And he kept coming back to her. All Liz did was go to her job on her assigned dates and times, he always came to her.
So why does it feel like she was the one who did something wrong?
To top matters off, she realized, in the midst of her wallowing in self-pity and depreciation after the blunt rejection of affection, that she was incapable of making any sort of contact with him in hopes of an explanation.
Pulling her limp and sagging body up off the floor and away from the door, Liz dragged herself into a standing position with the little energy she had left.
Finding her balance on top of her two unsteady feet, Elizabeth, walked the few feet separating her from the bottle of wine she opened earlier but never had. Lady Luck was in her favor, her hands much to shaky to fully open a new bottle of wine. Grabbing the bottle, she went into her bedroom, not bothering with a glass.
With an already large amount of alcohol coursing through her bloodstream, getting completely and utterly wasted shouldn't be too much of a problem. Soon enough, and more than half the bottle gone, sleep encased her with alcohol induced arms. Pulling her into the promising waves of dream land, far more enjoyable than the woes and hardships of reality. Sleep. She could indulge in the feelings of loss and sadness tomorrow but right now she was drunk, heartbroken and way beyond tired. As she finally drifted off into the drunken slumber, her brain fuzzy and clouded from the alcohol racing through her arteries, the thing she thought about was what could have been between her and the man who rejected her.
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