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?


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A/N: Hello lovelies! Im so sorry we haven't updated you all in what seems like months. Ive started acting school and its a very excited change. But were back! Enjoy a brand new chapter of Alcoholic Veins .xx  


Brooklyns' POV:   The problem with love is that it changes everything. When you love someone, you don't want to hurt them, even if they deserve to be hurt. When you love someone, you want to hurt them, even when they don't deserve to be hurt. It's completely messed up, and so are Liam and I. Totally messed up because of-and over- each other. We don't talk about the future, anymore. Were taking things one day at a time. One night at a time.   The problem with alcohol is similar. It changes everything. The monster and I are still friends. But were a different kind of friends. More than pals, less than fuck buddies.   Six aching months since I stopped drinking, an inseparable pain left. An intricate weave left on my heart from an addiction. No longer do I believe I can recover from this fling with the devil. Its more like a total commitment. More like I have walked down the isle, holding hands with the monster.   It is a clear not quite warm September night, the obsidian sky brimming with stars. An orange harvest moon lights the semi-deserted neighborhood, and my confidence in my ability to create conversation with the only other drifting soul in the room, dissolves with every thought in my wake. I am wide awake, slowly lost in thought of Liam. Hopefully he's upstairs sleeping soundly; hopefully he wants me to go upstairs and join him.   Blakely was on the opposite side of the couch, as quiet as a mouse. Even on her best days, clock-watching was never her greatest trait. I wanted to say something, but she spoke up, finally.

"Luke is going to be okay, right?" I nodded and she gave me a concerning smile.  

"Do you have any pick-me-ups? I think we could both go for one." I motioned to the kitchen.

"Like beer? God Brooklyn, didn't you quit? Never mind that, come with me."

This was how I was going to bond with my younger sister I haven't seen in months. No hug, no warm fuzzy friendship to rekindle. Oh, well. We were never the best of friends that siblings could get.   We walked up the stairs in silence and she led me to her room. 

"Sorry about the mess. I've been kind of busy. Anyway, cleaning is such a waste. It never frigging ends, does it?"

Mess couldn't describe the battlefield of her room I just walked into. The floor was strewn with dirty clothes, designer jeans, and school papers everywhere.

"Its not like it matters how clean it is, it's easier to hide things."   I sat, growing more anxious by every ticking second, watching her rummage through her closet. She pulled out a half empty bottle of vodka, and another of whiskey. My hands shimmy as I reached for the bottle Blakely handed me.

"Jeez, it has been a while since you used, huh?" My hand trembled, anticipating treasure.

Long-long treasure. One slow, easy sip sets off little fireworks inside my brain, igniting ecstatic bursts everywhere. It's worth the risk of getting caught. I want to feel this great all the time. With one sip, my life I have worked so hard to make normal perverts itself again. I came to America, hoping to rekindle my friendship with my family. But now I don't want to go home in England, or back to bed with Liam for the night. All of a sudden I felt more at home in my forgotten younger sister and her dangerously messy room.

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