Playing With Fire

Chapter 7: Scotch

It took Reela a while to return to the house. She took her time walking back, just running through the things she could say to Cree once she sees him. She's still angry, but after her talk with Avinalyn, she's honestly too exhausted to lash out again. She just needs to talk to him. To hopefully either make him realize the way he made her feel, or to possibly understand why he did what he did.

Cree's parents abused him for years, just like Nelaeryn did to her. And yet, he was able to kill his parents. But for some reason, he decided she shouldn't do the same thing? She doesn't for a second think it's because Cree himself regrets killing his parents, because to this day he's never once spoken of it as a bad thing. He's proud of what he did. And she knows he'd do it again.

So why couldn't she?

By the time she made it back to the house, it was quiet. Jules isn't anywhere around, and Mog is probably asleep upstairs, and all the lights are off, aside from the fireplace.

And Cree is sitting at the couch with his head down and two unopened bottles of scotch on the coffee table in front of him. He's fidgeting with his metal arm and bouncing his leg, but he stops when Reela closes the front door behind her and takes a small step into the room.

Cree glances over at her and though the room is dark, she can see the redness to his eyes and the tiredness on his face. He doesn't say anything and after a moment of staring at her, he looks at the fire again and waits.

Reela takes a silent deep breath before walking over and sitting next to him. She keeps some distance so he would have to move closer to make any contact with her, which is for the best since she still doesn't think she's ready to be held by anyone just yet after how she lashed out before. Especially not Cree. Not until she understands.

Without a word, Cree reaches over to the table and slides one of the bottles over to her and he picks up the other, popping the cap off with his metal thumb. He doesn't take a drink right away, and instead just sits and waits some more.

Reela shakily grabs the bottle in front of her and takes out her knife to pry off the cap, setting both the knife and the dented cap on the table. She glances over at him, seeing that he's watching her, but not her eyes. He watches the bottle in her hands as he waits.

With a sigh, she takes the first drink. She coughs a little since she's still not quite used to drinking scotch yet, but she's had drinks served by centaurs since coming out here. She's not really bothered by anything too strong anymore.

After she takes her drink, Cree takes his. She turns her gaze away from him, when he lowers the bottle and holds it in his lap, staring at the label in silence for another moment, when he finally sighs.

"...Do you know why I always have scotch when we drink together?" he starts and slightly looks over at her out of the corner of his eye.

She meekly shakes her head. She's noticed it before, but never thought much of it.

Cree slowly nods and takes another quick drink, lowering the bottle to set it on the table and lean forward with his elbows rested on his knees. "When I first met John, he brought me to The Free Watchman for a talk. Since I was only sixteen, I couldn't order my own drink, so he ordered for me. He asked me what I wanted, and I – being the little shit I was – thought he was testing me to see if I was actually as much of a hardass as I acted. So," he grabs the bottle, "I told him I wanted scotch. That's what the man who raised me always drank. And John laughed at me, right in front of the bartender," he smiles down at the bottle, running his thumb over the neck. "And I wanted to break his fucking nose."

He takes another drink and Reela looks down, also taking another drink. Cree talks about John a lot, but never really in full stories unless he feels there's a good reason to share it. So while Reela fails to see where he's going with this, she still stays quiet and listens.