❝ That looks tasty ❞

It was rare that Valeria let herself eat out. Her mother always considered it an unhealthy habit. Bad for your body and your wallet; she'd laugh when Valeria's friends wanted something simple like McDonald's, opposed to homecooked meals.  So she'd never gotten into the habit before since she moved out, she kept it as a treat to herself — something she saved for the hard days where she was just exhausted. Today was no better; only she'd gone out to a diner instead. Still a somewhat homecooked meal, she would've felt too gross if she ate something greasy like McDonald's. She'd had three meetings, two interviews, three tutoring lessons, and a test that day. Mentally and physically, it was safe to say that she was ready to drop. But she was starving, stomach rolling at the slightest mention of eating.

So she found herself snuggled into a booth by herself, accompanied by a strawberry milkshake, a burger, and a plate of fries. She'd been slowly nibbling at her fries while scrolling through her texts. That was when the sound of a strange voice floated into her ears. Dark eyes lifted from the device to land on a man who seemed to be just passing by and had stopped. Her eyes dipped down to the Double Bacon Mozarella burger she'd chosen, topped with lettuce, tomatoes, grilled onions, mushrooms, and mustard. Her mouth watered just looking at it, but she'd only just had the plate sat before her, and she knew her tongue would shrivel up and die the moment she even tempted to eat it.

"It's even yummier than it looks." She admitted, nodding her head ever so slightly as she lifted her eyes back to the stranger. "Ever have it?"

Twisted. Such a dark word, but sometimes apt when trying to scale inebriation. Coiled like a piled snake, alcohol really had the ability to disturb people. It interrupted whoever they were and sent an imposter to sway in their place. Uncharacteristic words would flow past lips and the morning after filled with embarrassing stories of a night gone awry. Vik had one and two, here and there, ten years on land, with nothing expected of him he enjoyed the looseness. He was at war, waging against himself. Dangerous evenings turned liquid and he drowned himself in hopes of finding the sea. No oceans contained themselves in any tumbler but there was surely no harm in making absolutely certain.

Vik was leaned up against cold brickwork, having trouble making sense of the real and the fake. He was sure he’d just stepped outside the Lusty Lady for a breath of fresh air. Not unlike him to want for air and be thoroughly devastated by it; how humiliatingly human. Vik huffed out a hollow chuckle to himself, hands deep in his pockets as if helped with keeping his frame balanced. His pair of ocean eyes looked out and nothing was recognizable. The world was moving at a pace he was unfamiliar with, his brain barely able to comprehend the familiar face right beside him. 

“Benny! How’s your evening going? Isn’t too cold is it?” Genuinely curious, vodka did funny things to one's internal thermostat. 

@bennettorsin