Twelve Movements
First Movement
"Marshall, get off the couch."
No response.
"Wake up, Marshall."
The brunette sprawled across the couch grunted miserably.
"You passed out last night, you know."
He raised a hand, waving it about carelessly.
"It's not cute, Marshall. I'm getting sick of this."
"Please stop speaking, Aubrey. My head's pounding like crazy." His voice was hoarse, no doubt from too much hard liquor burning down his throat the previous night. He always overdid it.
"Whatever, I'm not helping you this time. You know where the aspirin is."
"Aubrey," he grumbled, "Don't be like that. I'm sorry."
"You're always sorry, Marshall. It's always the same thing, every single time. You're always sorry, and you always expect me to forgive you afterward. I'm sick of it!"
He groaned loudly, throwing his hands up to clutch his head. "Don't yell. It burns."
I sighed, resting my hands on my hips. "You're pathetic," I said through pursed lips.
"I know."
"You're really pathetic."
"Agreed, so will you help me?"
"Fine." I stomped from the room, retrieving two aspirins and a bottle of water. I walked back into the living room to see him sitting up, still holding his head in his heads.
"I'm never drinking that much again," he muttered miserably.
"You always say that," I stated simply, handing him the pills and water. I sat beside him on the couch, watching him down the pills and water in just a few gulps.
"I'm an idiot, aren't I?" he asked softly, voice still hoarse, and laid his head in my lap.
"Yeah, you kind of are." I absentmindedly stroked his soft hair, undoing knots expertly with my fingers. My taking care of him in a hung-over state was not exactly a new thing. We had quite the pattern developing.
"I know I got carried away. I really didn't mean to."
"I know."
"No, you don't. It's not that I like drinking, it's that I just can't stop." He looked up at me pathetically, eyes red from lack of sleep.
"What do you mean, Marshall?"
"Bree, I want to quit, to stop disappointing you all the time. I just…I just need this." His bloodshot eyes pled silently with mine.
"Okay, babe, it's okay. I understand. Okay? Don't worry."
"I'm sorry, love. It's just complicated; that's all."
A/N: Hello everyone. This is a twelve chapter short-story that I wrote in two days, yesterday and the day before. I thought it was a pretty cool concept, and the entire story follows a CD that I love. So, each movement (chapter, but I thought I'd run with the music theme) has a song off the album that goes with it. It's in order, so I want to see if anyone knows what CD it is. I'll tell people in the last chapter.
This is new for me. It's my first ever M-rated story, and I really like it. It's special. Leave feedback, and help me out here. Review.
Natalie.