Drabble
Rating: PG
Status:
46/100
Secondary
Genre: Drama
Word
Count: 300
Theme:
Uke Roy #14: "Drunk"
"So, here we are again." Roy was speaking to the half-drained bottle in his hand, and also to the chorus of empty ones on his table. "You and I... how many times have we done this?"
No response, which Roy found infuriating. He wanted voices, he wanted activity, he wanted something other than the all-consuming silence that had fallen ever since Alphonse had left for Resembool. "I can always count on you to be there for me, can't I? No matter how much I hurt, you'll make me feel better!"
More silence. Roy took another large drink from the bottle, still far too coherent for his tastes. "You're a lousy guest, though." He frowned. "'Takes two to dance,' didn't you know? I can't carry a conversation by myself."
Still no answer. Draining the bottle, Roy carelessly dropped it on the table. "Al would be scolding me right now. 'Roy Mustang, what are you doing? That's bad for you! Here, I'll make you some coffee, you get sobered up, and then...'" Roy's laughter, this time, was low and weak. "I don't know what he'd say next... Can't predict what he's going to do and I can't even protect him from himself... what kind of lover am I?"
The bottles didn't respond. After a long pause, Roy tried to force himself to forget about Alphonse. "Come on! We can be just like old times! Just all of you and me, all night long, and who cares about tomorrow? It'll definitely be worse than today, so we can be like this all week if we want to!"
It was just like old times. Roy Mustang tried to drown his sorrows in the low-class beer he had been used to long ago, but all that granted him was oblivion, not healing.