The liquid stank like sweetened feet prevailing over all other scents that dared try to waft freely. Amar roughly pushed the mug into his frozen fingers, right under his nose. It was enough to send him stumbling to the bathroom instead.
"You're an asshole." Four declared, having heaved up splotches of blood along with the bile.
"No one made you drink."
"No one stopped me either."
"Not your baby sitter." He reminded, leaning in with the cup.
"Aren't you?" Four glared before retching one last time.
"So, what do you remember?" Amar handed him a wash cloth,, setting the tea on the counter to cool.
"That I'm never drinking again."
"Yeah, I remember you saying that at least five times." Amar smirked, "What I meant was, if you remember your ramblings last night?"
Four froze, the cool cloth tapped to his neck and eradicating the heat while he contemplated through the pounding in his temple. "Fuck. You." He groaned. He'd been filleted open by Bud's special blend of grain alcohol and fruit juice and Amar's gift of gab.
"See, more like a therapist than a babysitter." Amar put his arm around him and helped him so he was sitting on the edge of the bathtub. "You know, I have a better chance of helping you when I know the full story."
"I don't need your help." Four griped, pushing his head as close to his knees as he could.