🅸'🅻🅻 🅱🅴 🆃🅷🅴🆁🅴 🅵🅾🆁 🆈🅾🆄 {ERIC MATTHEWS}

S1 E3: The One With The Damage

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷THE FIGHTING HAD STOPPED. Not for long, but temporarily there had been peace in the Madden household. There was only one catch; Andy's mom had gone to New York for a few days to visit her sister and help her with some previously undiscussed project. She had to constantly assure Andy before she left that she would only be gone a few days, maybe a week at most, but the young girl was fearful of what may happen if her mother sees how much better off she is in New York. 

She told Eric she was scared, and for the most part she was... but she couldn't deny how much better she felt knowing she could sleep in her own bed at night without hearing the ruckus of two fighting parents every night. The Matthews couch had been offered to her a few times, but she resisted, not wanting to be the one who left because of family issues, either. 

There was only one problem that had ensued while her mother was gone; her father's drinking habits were increasing. Now, he didn't always drink himself drunk, not even before he was married to Andy's mother... but lately, things hadn't been going his way, and the only way he felt able enough to drown it out was through a cold glass of Jack Daniels. He always liked the hard stuff, normally had a good tolerance against it, but when you have just one too many, it can mess up your system. It can make your head so fuzzy that you don't know what's real and what's fake... worse of all, you can't control your anger, especially if it has been pent up for weeks without resolve. 

-

Sitting on the couch in the living room, she had expected at least two more hours to pass before her dad would return, as per the nightly tradition he had set for himself in the last few days. Usually, Andy had time to go up to her room, shut the door, and lock it. If anything else happened in the house after that, she was none the wiser. It was only eight o'clock tonight, and her head snapped to the doorway after checking the clock on the mantel. He came trudging into the house with lean in his step, and it made her weary that the man she always saw walking straight and tall was hunched over and in a daze. He bumped into the table by the entry way and had to put his hands down flat onto it to steady himself. It was a contrasting sight, to see her father reduced to nothing but a drunkard in only a week. She felt scared to move, feeling as though if he saw her, his behavior could escalate. 

She knew how angry he could be on his own, without even a hint of liquid courage. Now, being completely flushed with the substance, there was no telling what could happen, or what he might do. All she knew was how strong he was, and capable enough of doing some questionable things. 

He managed to break away from the table, and walked straight to the couch. He sat down across from it, and she had to focus on the TV to keep from getting anxious. She wasn't even sure what she was watching anymore, only that it was of comfort to her before this unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

He looked at her, and nudged her arm with his. 

"Why are you still down here?" His words weren't slurred, but they were harsh and attention grabbing. 

"You're home early," she responded, keeping her eyes on the TV. Her line of sight did not dare to shift, the fear of meeting his eyes was too strong. 

"I know, they kicked me out of the pub."

Oh no. 

Pray tell, what did they kick him out for? She wanted to know so badly, but at the same time, she figured remaining in the dark could at least spare her a confirmation of him being violent in any capacity. If he had been sent home for causing problems and perhaps assaulting someone, then she would have reason to believe she herself were in danger. 

She let the silence engulf them for a few minutes. The show wasn't nearly enough to drown out the loud thumping of her rapid heartbeat, but she continued to act on as if it were the most interesting piece of media she ever consumed. She hoped and prayed that he would pass out within the next few moments, and she could sneak out to the Matthews for a while until he was sober. It was a good plan until she realized how truly alert he was, and the chances of him falling asleep were slim to none. She didn't want to be in the house, even in her room with the door locked. It seemed like a bad idea to sty there and stew in her nerves. She'd feel much safer with Eric, who was likely still awake and studying. She could just climb the tree and knock on his window, then she would be ushered in and they would likely talk a while.