Alcoholic Veins

Would you ever think after one bar fight, Brooklyn might find the boy to take the liquor out of her hands, and show her what love was again?


16. 15

Brooklyn's POV:

Bella had left with Harry, and I was throwing away and emptying the massive amount of liquor stored around the house. Most were in cabinets, underneath the sink, and even stashed in the secret bottom drawer in the freezer. Those would be fun to smash against the concrete.

I knew there was a bottle of rum in the fridge out in the garage, and I went outside to throw it away. Opening it, the amount of liquor stored away was unbelievable.

"One for old times wont hurt.."

I grabbed a bottle of beer and chugged it. Another came out, one by one empty bottles piling at my feet. I went to grab another, and my hand hit the back of the ridiculously cold fridge. I hiccuped and looked down, warily counting the frost glass containers.

"One.. two...."

After spinning around fully- and causing a massive headache in the process- I stopped at seven. Seven highly expensive and foreign beers, seven that were designed to only be one. The seven that were supposed to be thrown away with the rum, and the vodka. Jack Daniels was amongst the things. Empty frozen shot glasses stored, waiting to be used. There was a half empty bottle of champagne. I picked it up and went to drink it, glass coming in contact with my mouth.


I jumped and dropped it, tripping over the glass bottles, all falling and breaking. I screamed and ran to Liam, leaping for his arms.

"What the hell are you doing out here?"

"I went to throw away- and then- and I- I cant do this Liam. I cant. Not yet."
"How many did you have? Here come inside." Liam helped me walk over to the couch, sitting me down slowly so I wouldn't throw up on him or anything else.

"Why do you drink? Do you understand what happens to you when you drink?" I was a bit spacey on my answers but, the first thing that came to my mind was my reasoning on why I liked drinking so much.

"I drink because life gets stressful. That's why I have a beer, to bleach out the pain." He pushed the hair behind my ears. He looked lost for words and couldn't think of something else to say.

"Try." This meant nothing because I didn't know what he meant. Try what? Try stopping because that isn't gonna happen. I can barely go three hours without drinking a beer or chugging a bottle of champagne.

"Just help yourself by stopping." He choked out the words. He must've understood my misunderstanding of "Try".
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