Just friends (Robert Downey Jr)

"Whiskey"

I quickly leaped up from my stance against the wall and walked over to Robert, who began drinking straight from the bottle and I knew where this was going.

I leaned against the bench top and said as calmly as I could, whilst looking down at my nails and picking some gunk out of them.

"You know Robert, drowning your sorrows in alcohol doesn't really drown them. They always tend to surface again."

Robert turned around.

He had finished the whole bottle and threw it across the room, shattering it against the ground.

I didn't even know it was possible to finish a WHOLE bottle of scotch that quick without throwing up. The broken bottle was bound to come, so I remained calm.

His face was dazed, he was flustered, tears from his, now rosey red cheeks, had dried.

He walked over to me and fell.

He was curled into a ball laying at my feet crying hysterically.

I continued to pick the gunk out of my nails.

I was used to things like this. I grew up in these types of situations as a kid and when I saw Robert collapsed at my feet I decided to just stand there and mind my own business.

Drugs and alcohol filled the air for me as a child.

I saw the good sides of it...and the bad sides.

"Robert." I said harmoniously.

He looked up at me, his eyes changing from brown to green, back to brown.

His look resembling a baby puppy, just looking for love and feeling lonely.

Nobody can stay hard nosed to a look like that.

"Grab my hand." I said sweetly. The look in his eyes screamed thank you.

As I gestured my hand out, Robert grabbed it. I pulled him up. As he stumble, I decided to place him on a couch that was near by.

Being careful to watch out for the glass.

"Stay here." I said intensely, he nodded, and crawled into a ball, lifting his shirt over his head and continued to sulk.

"Where's your dustpan and broom?"

I ushered, poking his shirt whilst he lied in the foetal position.

He peeped his eyes above his top and pointed towards the pantry where he had gotten the scotch from.

I opened the double doors.

I swear to you this "pantry" was like Narnia, I was just waiting for some snow, a lion and some talking beavers to appear at any minute.

As I searched for the dustpan and broom, I could hear Robert crying.

I felt remorse, and memories flooded back of when I was a kid. Quickly I snapped out of a reminiscent trance and found the dustpan and broom. I walked to the glass swept it up, then put it into the bin. Then walking back to the pantry, I placed the dustpan and broom back where I found it, when suddenly I saw a bottle of whiskey.

This is probably the last thing that I need, but, what the hell right?

"Where are your glasses?" I asked.

Robert answered back in between sobs, trying to make the atmosphere more playful, his voice muffled, suggesting that he was speaking beneath his shirt.

"What are you after? Ray-Bans, Gucci-"

I cut him off, with a general laugh, and replied, "don't humour me."

"Top shelf." He replied.

I grabbed two glasses, and poured some whiskey.

I walked over to Robert with the two glasses and the bottle.

"Hey look, I found your best friend."

"Wha-" Robert emerged from his shirt cocoon, looked at me wide eyed and then started to frown.

"What?" I questioned playfully.

"I...just....you said that alcohol doesn't drown your sorrows?"

Robert looked so confused. It was rather cute.

"Yeah, yeah. But I never said it doesn't make you forget about them for a while?"

"I don't want any." Robert said, as he sat up and slouched into the sofa.

"Fair enough." I placed a glass and the bottle on the table in front of me, the other glass in my hand, and sat down next to Robert.

It was a three seater couch, so I decided to put my legs up, rest my back against the arm rest and lay comfortably, with my legs scrunched up so my feet wouldn't touch him.

"You wanna talk?" I questioned sincerely.

"I. I just. I. Uhm."

"Spit it out." I said with a raised eyebrow and a quirky grin, as I sipped my whiskey.

Roberts hands were in his lap, he sat there twiddling his fingers, sitting like a little boy who was in trouble, when, he turned his head and looked at me.

That was that same look he had given to me earlier in the day. That same lustful look, that burned of passion. He battered his eyelashes and crawled up to where I was sitting, his body eventually hovering over mine, biting his lip as he looked down at me.

"Yes?" I questioned, as I moved his head so I could finish off my whiskey, then placing the finished glass on the floor.

He moved his head back and locked eyes with mine. "Thank you." He replied. A smile cracking at the corners of his mouth.

"I barely said anything." I replied, with a flirtatious grin.

I could feel his hand running down the side of my body, and dig underneath the arch of my back so he could hold me close.

"You didn't have to say anything."

He moved his lips and brushed them up and down my neck, kissing me lightly as he did so. His breath, warm, and his hand still arched behind my back, the other propping himself up.

"Oh god," I thought to myself. This is definitely going to be one of those things he'll wish didn't happen in the morning.

So as hard as it was, and as much as I wanted to keep going, I stopped him.