Redemption || MorMor

Mistakes

As soon as he woke he knew he'd made a mistake. That deep feeling that something was wrong, that something had happened, but he couldn't place what. He rubbed between his eyes and groaned loudly. Light was seeping in through the curtains so Seb knew it was morning. What was the last thing he remembered? Staring at Jim and not being sure why. Getting drunk. Waking up.

But something had happened. He knew it had, a deep gut feeling. He somehow sat up and looked around, head in his hands. He spotted the water... water! That meant something... something had happened... Angry at not remembering, he took a few large gulps of the liquid. He tried to hear Jim scuttling around downstairs but he couldn't. He sighed and stood up, stomping his way downstairs for a coffee. To his relief, Jim wasn't there. He didn't know where he was. This made him frown, but he just sat down and drank his drink, mentally debating with himself over taking painkillers or not. He decided against. And then decided that being unsure was annoying him too much, so called for Jim.

"Jim! Where are you? You here?" He immediately regretted shouting that loud.

"Yeah I'm here – doing the washing. I'll be down in a minute!" The younger man yelled back a few moments later.

Dread filled up in his stomach. He knew he'd done something. He just couldn't remember what. Well, he'd have to find out eventually and better sooner rather than later, right?

Exactly a minute later, not that Seb was counting, Jim appeared. He chuckled at the sight of the hang-over-ridden Sebasatian and shook his head a little, "my, my, you were in a mess last night."

"Something happened, what happened?" He frowned, "I can't remember anything..."

"You weren't making much sense. I had to put you to bed."

"Did I-Did I say anything?"

"You said I was pretty," he laughed at the fresh memory. "You were legless."

"I'm sorry..." The shame was too much for him.

"Just try not to get like it again, okay? Not that bad. I can't be carrying you up the stairs, you're too heavy for me."

This made Seb chuckle, "yeah... you're a pretty weedy thing, aren't you?"

"Pretty isn't the word I'd use..." Jim was teasing him over last night and he knew it, "but if you insist..."

"Please, don't bring it up. I didn't know what I was talking about." He sighed and then realised what he had infered. "Not that you're not pretty or anything, 'cause you are, no, not like, oh-" He stumbled over his words as Jim laughed. He was in a mess now.

"Just be quiet, Moran," his words were stern but there was a smile on his lips. "You're digging a deeper hole. Let's just leave it." He walked into the room, "toast?"

"I-I'm okay, thanks," Seb tried to maintain some sort of normality and equilibrium to his voice. Deep down, he was a nervous wreck. He didn't want to anger Jim. He didn't want his drunk-self giving away things that his sober-self wasn't even sure about. He needed to sort his head out, "I'm going out for a run, actually. I need some exercise."

Jim nodded, turned around to the toaster, "sure."

As Seb was leaving, tying his running shoes, he called, "see you in a bit."

"Be careful, tiger."

The air filled his burning lungs and his legs started to ache. It had been a while since he'd trained and his body was now paying the price. He stopped by the side of a road and caught his breath, resting his hands on his thighs and staring at the small stones that made up the pavement.