𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚 ♡ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 - 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

ఌ 𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙔'𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙑 ఌ

I knew I shouldn't have drank. The lack of food in my system and the fact that I only slept for about 3 hours the previous night, were two very good reasons why I shouldn't have drank. But when my boyfriend, Noah, handed me another glass of red wine, any common sense I had left was lost.

It had become a common occurrence, drinking on a weekday. But when you've had a stressful day, week or even month, you would do anything for a little bit of a release. There were constantly a thousand things running through my head at one time; most of them thanks to my mother. 99.9% of the time we were like best friends, however, for the other 0.01% we wanted to murder each other. Nevertheless, we would both do anything to protect each other - 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.

I stumbled over to the table where the drinks were, ready to pour myself another when I felt a hand clasp over my own. I looked up to see Ginny, my younger sister, staring back at me. Her face was filled with disappointment and judgement. Even though I was a year older, she thought she had to 'look after' me and it had been that way for years. "What are you doing here?"

"Noah told me you had too much to drink, and since I always have to be the responsible one out of the two of us, I decided to come and pick you up," she stated.

I glanced over to Noah, who was downing another drink while flirting with some random girl from our school. There was a smirk plastered across his face as he realised my sister had arrived. I knew he had only called her so he could hook up with someone else. In that moment some wise words from my mother ran through my head: '𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙨𝙚𝙭 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙣, 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙧 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙊𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙬𝙚𝙙.' Things with Noah had been bad for a while but since he supplied me with free booze and weed, I had decided to just put up with his "bad" behaviour. I sent him a harsh glare before turning my attention back to my sister. "I've only had a couple of drinks."

"More like a couple hundred," she joked.

"I've had a terrible week...so what if I want to drink my sorrows away?"

"That's called alcoholism," Ginny replied, sarcastically.

"I just don't want to have to see Kenny. I might say or do something I will come to regret later in life."