Keep on surviving

A smile formed on his lips. It was nice to know he was still welcome here, even after all this. “I still don’t drink,” he reminded her, although jokingly this time. In a span of three months, he’d drank more than he had his entire life. “I’ll be sure to tell them if they ever try something like this again.” If only he knew who they were. “Surely they’ll listen if I drop your name.” Not something he would ever do. This was his mess and he did not want to involve any more people.

“The main one I assume.” To think this is where they would end up. They met over fries and now he came knocking on her door for help. Míngzé couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. Guilt that was luckily quickly pushed to the back because of the effects of alcohol and Mindo who started talking about herself.

Míngzé looked at her while he listened, his still burning arm resting on the table. He really tried to listen carefully to everything she said, but in the end only one thing remained in his head. “Like your hair,” he noticed as he pointed in the general direction of Mindo. Even he could see the fiery red locks on her head. “You’ll have to tell me again some other time, all I remember is red and fries.” His words were already sluggish. Maybe one day, he would be able to drink more than this. But that day was not today.

Míngzé couldn’t imagine that Mindo was someone who looked imposing. “The worst,” he agreed. So far she has given him no reason to even consider if those words held some sort of truth.

A soft groan rolled over his lips at the mention of affinities and he leaned back in his seat. There was clear annoyance written all over his face. “No, no, no. In this house we don't speak about— this isn’t even my house.” Not that it mattered. Míngzé shook his head at his own stupidity. His head began to feel pretty heavy. “Nope, not at all. Sāng had to carry me home last time.” Or well, he had to support him, but was that not basically the same. Surely it was.

She’d talked about herself, so it was only fair if he answered her questions. If his answers would actually answer something, that was something entirely different. “Badly,” Míngzé responded immediately, followed by an uncharismatic snort. During his dream, he’d been able to see. Or that is what they made him believe anyway. “You, for example,” Mingzè starts while gesturing towards Mindo with both hands. “Are a blob.” It was impossible not to laugh at his own words, only a sign of how badly his tolerance was. “A blob— as I said, with a red head.” That was about it. People with blond hair or even gray were nothing more than a moving blob.

Míngzé raised an eyebrow at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Can’t promise you they’d be straight or stable.” He had never even put together a cabinet or any kind of closet. People had to do it for him. If she asked him nicely, he would try it. Maybe only because he was tipsy and it sounded like a very good idea.

A loud laugh escaped after a moment when she came to the conclusion that Sāng was his boyfriend. The alcohol made it more funny than it should be, but he kept laughing until his stomach hurt, the pain radiating through his arm. “Fuck,” he cursed, his voice still amused and with a laugh breaking through. “God no, I’d probably come for his neck after living together for a week,” he explained with a chuckle. Or maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, but right now that was the image he had in his mind.

The grin stayed on his face when his explanation made Mindo burst out in laughter. “Not like you have a choice.” Everything and everyone was almost the same. There had been a time when it had been different, but that was far away in the past. “Much appreciated,” he said with a small bow. “It makes you a better looking blob than all the others,” Míngzé declared, gesturing in a half-circle as if indicating other people.

“Not me, that only makes you a way bigger blob,” Míngzé explained, his words slurring. It was weird to think people could see textures on skin, or small details on objects, as he has never been able to see any of those. A grin came to his lips at the sound of her laugh. “Only if it’s working,” he said jokingly with a wink followed by a chuckle. Oh god— alcohol was clearly a bad idea especially in his state.

He raised an eyebrow at Mindo’s words. “That’s hard to believe.” While they had not spent that much time together, he liked her. Yet of course, he barely knew anything about her, but that could change in the future.

When Mindo said she had to go outside with her pokémon, Míngzé gave her a small nod. He raised to his feet himself, completely forgetting that there was one sleeping in his lap. The pup tumbled to the floor, looking all kinds of confused. “Next time, I’ll bring orange juice.” Míngzé felt how wobbly his legs were and it was a good thing that he lived down the hall. Each step would take him great effort not to fall to the ground. But there was a promise in his words, otherwise he would not have said ‘next time’.