“I know coming from me it ain’t much but… trust me when I say getting drunk isn’t the answer to your problems,” he sighed as he handed you a can of cold soda and took his seat next to you on the couch. His hand reached for his tie, loosening it to finally breathe.

“In fact… it‘s quite the opposite, tends to complicate things even more when there’s booze in your system.”

The room was quiet—too quiet. It was clear Gallagher hardly spent much time home, given the lack of furniture and decoration—perhaps… he was just that minimalistic—and given the fact that despite you two having been together for a while, he never invited you over. Regardless, it was considerate of him to take you back to his place after his shift at the bar to help ease your mind and get you feeling better.

His big arm snaked around your waist and pulled you against himself, his fingers finding loose strands of your hair to toy with. “So, wanna’ tell me why you were trying to drink yourself to the realm of unconsciousness or would you rather just sit here in silence?”