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The Bathroom(Part 2)

9:01 PM
It had been a week since I had called him in the bath. His reaction was to stumble out of our bathroom, awkwardly dressing himself on the way out, and I hadn't heard from him since. I felt indescribably broken beyond repair, like my heart had been ripped out of me doused in rubbing alcohol, and crookedly stitched back in. My life was void of my constant sunshine, my apartment void of the bright bubbly blonde, my eyes void of emotion, and my ears void of his voice. I had called him multiple times, not once had he picked up. I press my hands to my face in a desperate attempt to ward back the tears stinging at my eyes, before I know it I'm sobbing into my hands at the kitchen table with a full bottle of Sake next to me. I now decide that it has been left waiting far to long, so I pop open the top and press the cold glass to my lips pouring out a liquid void of emotion or memory into my mouth and hoping the alcohol kicks in fast enough to keep me from spiraling.
10:07 PM
Tears pour down my face at an unrelenting rate, the salt water leaving red trails on my cheeks and the gulping of Sake leaving me out of breath. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, squeezing out more impossible tears that pass over my trembling and gasping lips that release whimpers of pain from the heartache. I turn to the mirror the sits next to my front door, near the dining table. My hair is a flat oily mess that leans to one side, my eyes are red and bloodshot, my face tearstained and glistening, the bags under my eyes are ghastly and give tribute to a week with only six hours of sleep. I can smell the sake on my breath, and I can imagine what my body odor must smell like.
1:02 AM
The last bottle is almost empty now, I suck at the dregs with quavering lips. My long fingers grasping my hair at the roots desperately searching for purchase in reality. I discard the bottle with the other shards of meaningless empty glass on the bamboo wooden floor. The weight of three bottles of alcohol begins to take its toll on me, and I don't register much as the floor suddenly comes up to slap my cheek. The floor is cool and much better than the dizzying chair.

Naruto's POV:
    It's 1:02 in the morning, I'm almost certain he's not up. He never likes to stay up this late, even when we were kids. I slide my key into the lock and am met with a familiar 'click' resonating through the hall. I swing open the door softly, hoping that I don't wake him. I notice shards of crystalline glass sprayed all over the dining room floor and I walk through the small hallway. Accompanied by the shards of glass is a certain Uchiha. Who also happens to be drunker than a skunk, which if you didn't know, is pretty fucking drunk.
"Okay Teme, let's get you cleaned up. I don't want you cutting yourself on any of this glass."
"Pfff. Pllleasseeeeee urrrrr mosss likelyyy tuh cut urseeelf dobeeee."
His words are horribly slurred, and the way he draws out his S's make him sound like an intoxicated snake. I heave one of his arms around my shoulder, and drag him to his bed. Hoping and praying that he never gets this drunk again.