Black Knight (Royal Elite 4)

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters.” I lift my head and sniff him, and the waft of alcohol hits me, even though mint comes from his breath. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Define drinking.” He grins, but even that doesn’t charm him into my heart.

“You have a problem, Xan. You need to stop.”

“It’s all under control.”

I reach into his jacket and retrieve the small bottle of Absolut Vodka he usually keeps there. “How are you keeping it under control? You’re like an old alcoholic man.”

He inhales, then tries to snatch it away. I throw it ahead letting it smash to pieces against the asphalt.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” he snaps.

“Because you need to stop.”

“You’re starting to sound like Dad.”

“Well, maybe you should listen to him. Can’t you see that you’re poisoning yourself?”

“No, just like you’re not seeing how you’re starving yourself.”

I pull away from him.

“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You’re right, I didn’t see how I was starving myself. I didn’t see how I was slowly hitting rock bottom both emotionally and mentally, but I do now. And the reason I’m not eating is because I don’t want to vomit. It pushes me back to those times and I hate those times. I told Calvin and Elsa about it, though. I also asked the doctor if there are any food supplements I can use. I’m trying, Xan. I just want you to try, too. Don’t throw your life away because of some grudge against Lewis.”

He strokes my cheek and I lean into his hand, briefly closing my eyes. “It’s not only because of Dad.”

I glance at him. “Then what?”

“You know that moment when you think your life has no purpose, and it’s kind of numb? Alcohol and fighting make me feel.”

“Just like cutting made me feel. There was so much pain and sometimes, I couldn’t breathe, and that’s when the cutting and the pills began. They made me feel something other than that pain. They were a pain I could control, a pain that could purge it all out with the blood. The physical cut was more tolerable than the thousand emotional and mental scars I walked with every day. But you know what?”

His finger never leaves my face. “What?”

“When I almost died, I realised how temporary those feelings are. The guilt is way more permanent and long. Besides, I want real feelings, not forced ones through addictions. Don’t you?”

He thins his lips into a line but says nothing.

“What’s more important? Me or alcohol?”

He scoffs. “The alcohol started because of you, Green. I mean, it was my choice, but you’re the reason.”

“Then I’m ending it.”

He smirks. “You’re ending it?”

“Absolutely. Watch me.”

“Meh, I don’t think I can.”

“Why not?”

“Climb on my lap so I can watch you clearly.”