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[ghostthatlingers]

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"You've reached Tex. Say what you need and I'll get back to you."

 

Comments

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Fuck." He hasn't rolled off the couch yet, but he keeps considering it. He squints at Tex when she approaches--is...that a glass of water for him or is she just going to taunt him and drink it herself?

[ghostthatlingers]

The latter is definitely the plan. She sips the glass as she watches him and his misery helps to soften hers. At least she's standing despite every fiber of her being complaining about it. "You couldn't do that, remember?"

[motherfucking_ghost]

"What? Can't hear you over the sound of everything buzzing like angry, angry wasps." His face is going to mush itself back into a pillow. "Hate you."

[ghostthatlingers]

"Shut up." That couch is looking mighty comfortable and she is prepared to sit on top of his legs if he doesn't move them in time.

[motherfucking_ghost]

She's gonna get kicked if she does. Thankfully, he manages to haul himself sitting upright. Things do not spin. His stomach doesn't turn anything that shouldn't into a projectile. But everything still sucks massively. "Let's not do something that fucking dumb ever again."

[ghostthatlingers]

"Your fault," she grumbles and slumps into her seat. If he hadn't been such an ass about it, she would have stopped drinking four shots ago. Now she's nursing a hangover and trying to get water back into her body.

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Absolutely not my fault. Shut up. Just...shut up. No tequila for you for a while."

Water. Sounds good. Involves getting up. Ehhhhh shit here we go he's doing it he's doing the shuffling to the kitchen for water thing. He hates himself. Hate. Hate. So much hate. Everything is the worst. Tex is the worst.

"York didn't come in and shank me or ransack the place. So."

[ghostthatlingers]

She snorts. They both know he has no power over her and if she wants tequila tomorrow, she will damn well have it. Not that she's really considering it and ugh the mere thought of it turns her stomach.

"Lucky you."

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Would've been a good time if he'd known. But hey, he doesn't hate you, maybe he wouldn't be that dickish. Unlike tequila. Tequila? Hella dickish."

[ghostthatlingers]

"Would have been fine if we stopped sooner." Really not the best way to spend the evening and dammit, she still didn't get her steak.

[motherfucking_ghost]

She can have steak tomorrow. He promises! Tonight he can light his breath on fire and pretend to be a dragon, so no, no steak. ...How about a sandwich. He make slap some meat and cheese on bread and call it a fucking day.

"I told you to slow down."

[ghostthatlingers]

"I couldn't hear it over the sweetcheeks," she replies flatly. She finishes off most of the glass, but there's still a few sips in there. Here, Church, have her pity water.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Save your pity water, woman, he is his own man, with his own water. Also. A sandwich. It is not elegant, but it's food.

...He might come back with two of them. Because he's fucking nice like that. "And not the honeybuns?"

[ghostthatlingers]

"Don't ever call me that crap again if you want to keep your balls." The sandwich helps to temper that threat, but only barely. It's not steak, though it'll have to do since she sure as hell isn't making anything.

[motherfucking_ghost]

"My balls are staying in place, thanks. Now eat your damn sandwich before I decide to eat them both."

[ghostthatlingers]

"Fuck you too." She grabs the sandwich before he can change his mind and digs in. At least this will help settle her stomach.