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Primavera, Botticelli, 1477


"Don't wear it out."

"What are you doing all the way out here?"

"The same as you?" Isaac made a face as if the answer was obvious. "I'm here to get wasted."


"Because Beckett, I don't particularly like feelings. I don't know about you, but I don't enjoy when my chest feels tight and restricts my breathing, or my stomach churns, or my heart beats faster than a butterfly's flittering wings. It's uncomfortable."

"As straightforward as ever, I see."

     Isaac smirked.

     "Please be sure to take your disliked feelings with you and sit on the opposite side of the room."

"But what if I feel like sitting next to you, Mr. Prefect?" Isaac asked with plead in his voice, but it was clear to Josiah that he didn't care for his answer, for he proceeded to pull out the stool next to his without hesitation.

     Josiah was going to need a few more drinks.

✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✦ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧

     "You're not fibbing at all?" Josiah asked, glassy eyed and hazy minded.

     "Nope!" Isaac replied. "Not one bit."

     "You met The Rolling Stones?"

     "You bloke! Are you so drunk that it's clogged your ears? I said I met a makeup artist of theirs for God's sake."


     "Geez, look a bit more disappointed will you?" Isaac said sarcastically as he watched Josiah's excitement morph into devastation. "This is why we can never converse normally. I'm never telling you a story again; I was just trying to lighten the mood yet you've somehow managed to look more depressed than before."

     "It's not the story, I swear. It's getting late and I just realized," Josiah hesitated, unsure about revealing the messy situation he was in to the boy he disliked, "I kind of don't have anywhere to sleep tonight."

     "Bloody hell Beckett, I don't either! I was being amicable towards you for the past few hours because I was intending to ask you for a place to stay. Amazing."

Apparently both boys had barely fifty pounds on them.

     "Do you think we could maybe..." Josiah proceeded to draw out the end of his question. Sure, they were drunk and less angry towards each other at the moment, but that didn't mean they were now best friends.

     "Share a hotel room?" Isaac finished the question. "Please, I'm desperate."

     Thus, their drinking at the pub had ended with their mutual agreement, and they headed out to find the nearest place to stay.

✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✦ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧

    Turns out, although they were finished getting drunk in public, they wanted to continue wasting away in the privacy of their own room as well. They drank until their bodies were unfeeling and their minds unthinking. When they desired a break, they found themselves lying on the tile floor together, because it provided easier access to the drinks on the counter than the bed or the sofa did.

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