Suck, suck, swallow, suck, just a second or two more and it will all be over. Just a-
 
“OOOOOOHHH!”
 
The tall brunette grinned triumphantly as she slammed her now empty beer mug onto the bar, watching as the stocky Indonesian hibachi chef slowly sat his mug down in defeat, sending her a playful glare.
 
“You cheated again?”

“I didn’t cheat, I won, now pay up,” she giggled, holding her hand out to the man to collect her winnings. Begrudgingly, he forked over a twenty dollar bill, though he complained the whole time. “Quit challenging me to sake bombs if you’re tired of giving me money. You know I’m going to win.”
 
“One day I will beat you,” he asserted, causing the rest of their coworkers to laugh. It had become a bit of a tradition for the bartender and one of the hibachi chefs to make a competition out of taking sake bombs on Fridays after closing. It gave everyone in the restaurant a chance to laugh and relax after a very stressful, very busy day.
 
“No you won’t,” the brunette grinned, stashing the money in her bra with the tips she had earned that night. “I’m just going to keep kicking your ass.”
 
“Get out of here Gabby,” he laughed, waving her off. “We’ll send the bar glasses to the kitchen. Go home, sleep.”
 
“I won’t argue with that,” she yawned, ducking back behind the bar to grab her phone and keys. Her lower back ached and she had tension in her shoulders, her feet she refused to even think about at the moment. It had been a very long day.
 
In a moment of stupidity earlier in the day, she had decided to take the bus to and from work to try to conserve a bit of gas and get a bit of a walk in. Now with the way her bones were aching and her head was throbbing, she was cursing her previous decision. Gabrielle breathed out a sigh of relief when the warmth from the alcohol she had drank before leaving began to soothe some of the soreness in her body on the bus.
 
By the time she had reached the block her apartment was on, the fuzzy feeling had spread throughout her whole body, leaving the tips of her fingers tingling and her head a bit lethargic. All the way down the block and up the stairs she wore a relaxed grin on her face. It only fell when she reached her door.
 
“What the hell are you doing here?”
 
Kris clambered to his feet with such a lack of grace that Gabrielle snorted in laughter. She couldn’t fathom why the fool would be here, but judging by the stench of alcohol wafting off of him he’d had a considerable amount to drink. Much more than she had.
 
“You’re home.” He smiled his stupid heartwarming smile, sending a twist of nausea to her stomach.
 
“Again, I repeat, what the hell are you doing here?” She huffed, quite annoyed that he was standing between her and her apartment door. All she wanted to do was go inside, take off her shoes and clothes, and sleep till tomorrow afternoon.
 
“I… I missed you,” he stumbled out, wincing when he realized how weak that sounded.
 
“You missed me? One year later… and you missed me?” she scoffed, voicing his own thoughts. “Come off it Kris, what the fuck do you want?”
 
“I did miss you,” he insisted, scratching the scruff that was covering his face. “I wanted to see you. I had to.”
 
“You’re drunk.”
 
Her voice was flat and lacked any sign of amusement. Tonight was not the night she wanted to deal with her trashed ex. She had enough stress going on at the moment. She’d recently graduated from college and was having a hard time finding a professional job and making money. Credit companies were breathing down her neck, she’d have to start paying on her student loans soon, her phone bill kept rising, she felt like shit, and now here was Kris to top off the night.
 
“I’m actually the most sober I’ve been in a few days,” he chuckled. He’d finally gotten tired of being drunk and miserable and left his house. Seeing her had started him on this path, seeing him would fix it. He had decided that he needed to fix things with her during his fourteenth hour of his alcohol binge. It had taken him until just a few hours ago to work up the courage to actually come to her. Even though she hadn’t been home when he’d gotten here, he refused to leave. Instead, he went to the liquor store across the street to get a bottle of Jim Beam and just kept the liquid courage coming as he waited for her. He refused to back down now.
 
Gabrielle’s eyebrows raised. He smelled like he’d gone swimming in whiskey, if this was the most sober he’d been in a while, she’d hated to have seen the shit-show he had to have been earlier. Kris wasn’t exactly an elegant drunk.
 
"Unless your cologne smells like whiskey, I'm calling bullshit."
 
"I don't smell anything,” he murmured, sniffing his clothing in disbelief. In fact, he hadn’t noticed any alcoholic smell in quite a while, even coming from his bottle.

"Kris, you just need to go home."
 
She’d already pulled her phone out ready to find the number of the taxi service that she often used when too intoxicated to drive. She may not have wanted him here, but she still refused to send him off to drive drunk. She wouldn’t let him put people in danger, or himself.

"What? No! I'm not leaving." Immediately his demeanor changed from calm and quiet to disgruntled. She wouldn’t make him leave, she couldn’t. Not when he’d finally gathered his bravery to do this. He had to make her see.
 
"Yes, you are,” Gabrielle chuckled bitterly, finally finding the contact in her phone.

"No. I'm not."

"Kris, just go. I have nothing to-"

"I'm not leaving!" He shouted, swatting her phone from her hand and glaring at her. She was brushing him off like he was nothing. He refused to allow it to happen. She wouldn’t just brush this away.

She snorted and picked her phone up off the ground. Her first thought had been to give him hell for throwing her phone, but she knew that would be useless. He was too drunk to give a fuck.  "You haven't changed at all, still stubborn as a fucking mule."
 
"I could say the same thing about you!" he huffed.  She was treating him like a child, and he didn’t like it. Not at all. Her glare sure made him feel like one though.

 "I'm about this close,” she began slowly, holding her thumb and forefinger a small distance apart for emphasis, "from making you leave."

"No. Not until we work this out,” he insisted.

"Work what out?! There is nothing!"
 
What the hell was wrong with him? He was acting like they’d just had some silly fight. Hell, he was acting like there was something left. Too many things had happened and too much time had passed for anything to be left.
 
"NO! You ‘ave to ‘ear me out!"

"Hear you out? Hear you WHAT?! Tell me it wasn't what it looked like?” she demanded. The alcohol had her feeling even more agitated and aggressive than she normally would have. She certainly wasn’t a passive person, but in a sober state she’d have more patience with a drunken person. But right now, she was intoxicated and he was her ex that was stopping her from going to bed. “That it was all some big fucking mistake, you didn't mean to hurt me but it just happened?"

"I-"

"Sorry,” she laughed bitterly, shoving him out of the way to unlock her door. “Didn't believe you the first fucking time you said it, and I won't now. Save your breath and my energy, and get the fuck out."
 
"Gabrielle please! I miss you!"
 
She froze with her hand on the door knob. So many weeks, even months, she had waited to hear him say that. So much time wasted wishing for words that never came. They hit her hard, just like she knew they would. He even sounded sincere, which made it even worse. She didn’t want to feel this, not now.

"Kris, it has been a year,” she reminded him calmly, opening her door and stepping in. “An entire year. Forgive me if I'm not buying your shit."

"It's true!” he insisted, catching the door before she could shut him out. He followed her in, shutting and locking the door behind him. He was not going to give up. “I thought you'd come back. But you never did..."

"What the fuck did you expect?"
 
"I know!” he huffed pitifully. He felt like he was getting nowhere. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to miss him as much as he missed her. “I know I fucked up and I'm so fucking sorry but you didn't even give me a chance to-"

"A chance to what? To make it up to me? You cheated on me, Kris!” she reminded him, her voice raising to a volume that her neighbors were sure to overhear, not that she gave a damn at this point. “Over and fucking over again. How could you possible make that up to me?!"
 
"You could have let me try!" He was practically pleading. Why wouldn’t she let him try now? Enough time had passed, he’d grown. A year ago he’d been an idiot, he didn’t know what love was. He didn’t know how much she meant to him, and neither did she. They both had grown up with fucked up examples of love in their lives. It was only a matter of time before one of them had fucked up. Surely she knew that.

"No, I couldn't. Nothing would have ever made that go away. Never. Every time I fucking look at you..."

"You don't look at me!" He yelled, backing her into her living room wall, practically forcing her to look at him. There was nothing else for her to look at, he surrounded her. A shiver ran down her spine when she realized the position she was in. Only now did she realize that she had lost control of the situation that she thought she had the upper-hand in. How had this happened?
 
 "You can't even look at me." He sounded almost sad.

"Because it hurts! It fucking hurts to look at you dammit."

A smile grew on his face. Hurt, she was hurt. Hurt he could work with, hurt he could make go away. Parents were onto something when they kissed a child’s injuries to make the pain go away. Enough kisses and enough love could make all hurt go away.
 
"Because you still love me."

"Because I still see you with her,” she corrected, blinking back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. Even now, she could see them, tangled in the bed she had shared with him, naked and writhing together. The smooth legs of another woman wrapped around the waist of the man that she loved as she pulled at his hair. Even now she had to swallow back the cry of pain that was so close to forcing itself out of her.
 
"I'm sorry." He knew she was thinking about it. He could see it on her face. The look of absolute heartbreak was still there, just like it had been that very day. All that was missing was the surprise. She’d gotten used to the idea of what he had done by now.

"Stop."

"Gabrielle, I'm so-"

"Stop fucking saying it!" she shouted, shoving him away from her. How dare he come in here and do this? How dare he apologize like he’d simply ruined her favorite shirt? How fucking dare he make her remember. "You can't just make it better. No matter how many times you say that you're sorry, it doesn't...it doesn't change what you did, or how you fucking hurt me."

"Then tell me what to fucking say!” he begged, grabbing her shoulders only for her to shake him off and step away from him. She wouldn’t let him corner her again. “Just tell me, Gabrielle. Tell me what to say or do, just...FUCK! I'll do anything!"
 
"There's nothing you can do! You already did it Kris. You did it, you made the choice. You decided I wasn't enough, and you went to her. I didn't do that, you did. You seem to have forgotten that."
 
"I know what I did,” he scoffed. Did she think he was an idiot, or just heartless? “I think about it every fucking day, Gabrielle! You think I could forget about that so easily? Christ!"
 
"You must have fucking forgotten to show up here,” she growled, attempting to lead him toward the door. If she could just get him out of her, if he would just leave, maybe she could get drunk enough to forget he had even shown up here. Maybe she’d be able to convince herself that this was just a bad dream brought on by too much rum.

"I didn't forget,” he insisted, following her lead to the door. He wasn’t going to let her run away from him. Not again. “I just decided that I loved you enough to try one more time to get you back."

"One more time? Are you fucking kidding me?” She almost laughed, it was that ridiculous. What the hell was he even talking about? “You never tried in the first place! And that...that hurt about as much as what you did in the first place."
 
"I already told you! I didn't think you would stay away so long. I thought you'd come back-"

"Go back for what?” she demanded, poking him roughly in the chest until his back hit her door. “So you could cheat on me some more? I'm not a fucking glutton for punishment, Kris. I may have been a fool the first time, but not again."
 
"Then what do you want from me?!"

"Nothing! Don't you get it? I don't want anything from you! You just won't fucking listen."

"I don't believe it,” he told her, shaking his head. He could see how dilated her pupils were. He may have been drunk, but not so drunk that he could identify someone else as intoxicated as he was. Oh no, she was wasted as well, she was no better than him. That’s probably why she was so argumentative with him. Maybe he could work it in his favor.

"Why not? Fuck, it's not like I'm sending mixed signals here. Just go, and leave me alone, and get on with your life. Find someone else to buy your bullshit."

"You still love me, you just won't admit it."
 
"Believe whatever the fuck you want, Kris. I'm done,” she shrugged, backing away from him. She was tired of fighting. He wasn’t listening to her, he was only hearing what he wanted to hear. She was too tired to keep going, and too hurt to try to care anymore.

"You're done?"

"Yes! I'm done,” she repeated. “I can't do this anymore! You think it was easy for me, finding you with HER, knowing that I wasn't enough for you? It fucking [i]killed[/i] me, Kris, and every day since but I'm trying. I'm trying to move on and I can't do that if you won't let me, so please."

"Gabrielle..." The way he said her name sounded like a caress. It always had. It was like her name was made to be said in his accent. Or maybe he had just been made to say her name. Either way, it brought back even more memories, memories that she had hoped had burned with the pictures months ago, but she wasn’t so lucky.

"Please, please, just..." She wanted to tell him to go, but she couldn’t get it out. Not through her tears. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Go home. Leave. Love me.
 
"I'm not going anywhere,” he insisted, cupping her face in one hand and wrapping his other arm around her waist to pull her close. He was so close to crumbling her walls, so very close. “Not this time. I'm not letting you push me away. I will make this work."

"Kris-"

"You are enough,” he said slowly, making sure she heard every word. “You always were, but I was scared, just like you are now. This... we'll fix it. I'll fix it. I ‘ave to."
 
And the walls came tumbling down…