Stupor - Marlowe/Hitch [SnK]

Stupor

      "Oi, Marlowe!" Hitch screamed, her dirty blonde hair swaying as she skipped towards him. She seemed happier than usual; which was odd, considering it was Hitch.
      Marlowe sighed as he turned towards her. "What do you want, Hitch?"
      "Oh, come off it, Marlowe. Why are you always such a grump?" she jeered at him, pointing a finger in his direction. She wasn't accusing him; she was just being the jester she always was.
      The raven-haired male stared down at her temperedly. "Hurry up; I have better things to do with my time, y'know."
      The young woman's eyes widened slightly; that was the first time he seemed really ticked to have her around. Marlowe was always exasperated; always, but never this much.
      She shifted her weight from foot to foot. What could she do? "Well...I guess.. It doesn't matter anyways. Sorry for bothering you...Marlowe.." she mumbled. Her eyes were downcast as she turned and sulked away.
      Marlowe was shocked at her reaction. 'I didn't mean to snap at her. She's never reacted like that before.. Maybe I should...'
      "Hey! Marlowe, what was that about?" a silver-haired man, Boris, asked, after seeing his comrade's conversation.
      "I-I don't really know. Hitch wanted something, and..I might...have snapped..at her..." Marlowe trailed off at the end. "But, she's never walked away; not that I can remember, at least."
      "Maybe you should apologize," Boris suggested, his dull tone ever-present. His gold eyes glanced over his friend. "Maybe you hurt her feelings, or whatever Hitch has."
      Marlowe sighed. "I just hope I haven't returned her to her drinking abyss."

      Hitch sat in her room, a bottle of Vine in her hands. It had never been opened. She sniffled as she brought one hand up to circle the rim of the cork.
      "Why does he have to be such a jerk?" she whispered. The door to her shared room opened.
      "Hey, Hitch... What are you doing?" the voice questioned, only slight concern present.
      "Oh, hey, Annie..." the normally-eccentric girl murmured, her eyes still on the glass bottle locked in her hands.
      Annie sat down on the chair opposite of the bunk beds, her crystal gaze unwavering as she watched Hitch's movements. "What? No smart remark today?" she inquired, her blonde bangs partially covering her visage.
      "Just shut up, Annie. I don't need this right now.." Hitch said, her amber orbs glancing in her roommate's direction.
      "Hm, did Marlowe turn you down?" Annie questioned, leaning back in the chair.
      "No! I...didn't tell him, yet..." the dirty blonde retorted, her eyes returning to the alcohol in her trembling hands. She blinked the tears away as she stood. "I'm going out," she stated, heading for the door.
      "Don't get too drunk, Hitch."
      "No promises.." 'Of course not, I'm drinking the night away.'

      A knock on the door brought Annie out of her stupor. 'It's getting late. If I'm lucky Hitch will be passed out somewhere close.' She opened the door to see Marlowe standing there, an anxious look on his normally calm face.
      "Annie! Is Hitch here by any chance?" He tapped his foot on the wooden floor. After a few minutes of silence, something clicked in his mind. "...She's drinking, isn't she?"
      "Vine, and probably a lot more by now."
      "Crap! Do you know where she is?" Marlowe fisted his hands at memory of Hitch's last spell.
      "With any luck, somewhere close." She rolled her eyes at the thought of trying to find her roommate.
      "Do you even have emotions?"
      "Better hurry, it's getting late."
      "R-right! Thanks, Annie!" he stuttered, before turning on his heel and leaving.
      Annie sighed at his retreating form. 'You better find her soon.'

      Hitch sat curled up against a building in Stohess Square. She sobbed quietly to herself, her face hidden in her knees. The girl wrapped her thin arms around her legs to crunch herself together more. Tears streamed down her pale face, her buckwheat eyes scrunched together in a futile attempt to hide the clear torrents. Several empty bottles of alcohol surrounded her trembling frame. She didn't even look up when she heard footsteps; she didn't care.
      "Hey, Hitch? By Sina, how much did you drink?! And, WHAT did you drink?" Marlowe gulped as he jogged to the girl, his breath short from his exertions of searching for her.
      He kneeled and placed his hand on her shoulder. She tensed at his touch and tried to swat him away. Hitch hazily gazed at him through her drunken and tearful stupor, eyes full of sorrow. She quickly wiped her tear-stained cheeks.
      "W-why would you c-care?" the dirty blonde slurred; her words held a mixture of sobs and over-consumption of, what appeared to be, Vine. She tried again to remove his hand from her, without success, and attempted to stand. Hitch stumbled a few times before getting her feet under her. She leaned against the wall and held her head in her hand, all the while avoiding Marlowe's gaze.
      He reached out and put his other hand on her cheek and gently turned her head to him. "Hitch, look at me.." he whispered, voice surprisingly full of concern. 'Goddesses, this is worse than her last round..' "What did you want to tell me earlier?"
      "It doesn't matter..." she mumbled, her orbs finally meeting his. She placed her trembling hands over his larger ones and started to push him away, but she couldn't. She just couldn't do it. Hitch gave in to him after what seemed like an infinity, and she wrapped her arms around Marlowe's large frame, bringing her face level with his shoulder. He enveloped her in a hug, which was different, dare she say.
      He heard her sobs before he felt them, her figure shaking with each one. Marlowe pulled her closer and rested his chin on her head. He sighed lightly and let her do what she needed to. Hitch had to be pretty drunk to break down and trust him like she was.
      She pulled her head away from his shoulder and peeked up at him, her eyes still foggy and tears staining her flushed cheeks. "Hey, Marlowe?" she murmured, her voice wavering lightly.
      "Yes, Hitch?" Marlowe replied, returning her gaze.
      "About..what I wanted to tell you earlier..." she began, her amber orbs flickering away. "I, um, I really l-like you....and...I was wondering...."
       Marlowe chuckled softly and ran a hand through her short hair. "Hitch, I like you, too." He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead to punctuate his confession.
      "R-really?!" Hitch squealed, before promptly throwing her arms around his neck. He laughed again.
      "Of course," Marlowe answered, pulling her closer.
      "Well, then, I have something to give you," she added, a mischievous smile gracing her features.
      "And, pray tell, what would that be?"
      Hitch suddenly reached up and kissed him, her lips meeting his. She pulled away after a few seconds, leaving a flustered and startled Marlowe behind. Hitch giggled before placing a hand on his crimson cheek. "What's wrong, Marlowe? You seem shocked," she joked, tapping his nose with her thumb.
      The male sputtered before answering. "Well-I, um-you.. Oh, come here," he said, before setting a hand on the nape of her neck and pulling her closer. His lips brushed hers before locking together. His hands found her waist, and hers found their way into his hair. The couple pulled away after a while to regain lost air, both beaming.
      Hitch smiled and leaned on Marlowe; he ended up with most of her weight on him, however. The woman laughed and laced their fingers together before walking.
      "Where are you going?" he inquired, letting her drag him slightly.
      "Back to HQ; where else?" she responded.
      "Uh, Hitch, HQ is the other way."
      "Maybe you should lead."
      "Maybe I should, since I'm the sober one."
      Hitch laughed, allowing him to take control. "You're an idiot."
      "Takes one to know one," Marlowe retorted, a glint of laughter in his voice as they walked. She laughed in response; how could she stay mad at him?
      He smiled; maybe the Military Police wasn't as bad as he originally thought.