He told himself that it was temporary and when the storm cleared he'd kick you out "Don't drink that." he stated after you'd picked up one of the whiskey bottles that riddled his apartment "Or that. Not that one either." You now sat with what non alcoholic drink and non spoiled food he could find in his cupboards. A glass of powdered milk and saltines that he'd found at the back of his pantry. He looked from your torn jacket, your disheveled hair, now wrapped up in a blanket he'd found