Alcoholic

Hunter wasn't sure how much he'd had to drink the night before either, so he was just as clueless as Ryan, unfortunately. Honestly though, he was surprised she was still here this morning. She'd stayed all night? Just to make sure he was okay? He felt the bed move and heard her leave, then heard the rattling of dishes in the kitchen. The last thing he wanted was anything to eat. The thought alone made his stomach churn. But he had a feeling she was going to be taking care of him, whether he liked - or deserved - it or not. 

By the time she returned to the bedroom, he'd sat up and was leaning back against the wall and hugging his pillow. His eyes were half open, but he couldn't even look at Ryan. He felt too guilty... too ashamed. He was never going to remember everything from yesterday, but there were bits and pieces coming back to him now, and he knew he'd failed miserably in multiple ways. 

He glanced at the nightstand and was tempted to refuse, but his better sense won out, and he picked up a piece of toast and the coffee after he'd set his pillow aside. Taking a sip, he cringed as it went down, then rolled his eyes. It was definitely black, and it was strong. He forced himself to take several more swallows before he nibbled on the toast as well, bypassing his nausea in the hopes that this really would make him feel better. 

Eventually though, his silence was too much, even for him. His guilt was gnawing at him worse than the black coffee, and he couldn't stand it. He set the cup aside and focused on his hands in his lap. Ryan had a right to know the truth... as much as he didn't want to say it, he knew he had to. It was the one secret he'd kept from her, and now he had to tell her.

He picked around one of his thumbnails, trying to decide which words to use. His head hurt so bad that it made thinking even harder. "I'm sorry," he finally apologized softly. "For... for last night. I... remember being at the Griller with Jeb and Triston, and I kinda remember you showing up but... that's about it." He swallowed hard. He just needed to say it. "I'm an alcoholic." Tears sprang into his bloodshot eyes, but he kept them from spilling over. His fingers stopped moving and he stared down at his hands as the heat crawled up the back of his neck. He knew this probably ruined everything between them. Who would want to have a relationship with a drunk? "I, um..." His voice remained so quiet, it was almost a whisper. "I can't have just one drink... I... I didn't set out to get drunk last night." He paused again, still refusing to look at her. He didn't want to see the look in her eye that said they were over. "I was having a rough day," he admitted. "I just... wanted to relax, so... when Jeb invited me to tag along, I... I thought I could just go and have one beer to take the edge off, but..." He shook his head miserably. "Once I started, I couldn't stop."

He fell quiet before shrugging lamely. He knew this wasn't over. Now that he'd had a taste again, by the time his hangover was gone, he'd be craving another drink, and it wouldn't be fun. He didn't even want to think what Ryan thought of him now, though.