A Sliver of Infinite

Chapter 35

The next day, I wake to the sunshine pooling in through my bedroom window. I had that same fleeting feeling of being encapsulated in a nightmare with hopes I could shake it after waking, just to have my heart broken all over again. Would this be my new morning ritual? Sure it may fade, but would this thought always stick with me?

As the sick feeling sets in, I turn to my left and almost jump out of my skin when I see Asher sleeping in the corner chair, legs kicked up on my desk. He looks so uncomfortable yet oddly peaceful at the same time. Getting out of my bed, wearing pajamas my parents must've put me in last night, I tiptoed over to him. Shaking him gently on the shoulder, I quietly say his name until he blinks repeatedly, opening his eyes.

"Dakota, you're awake," he states, sitting upright, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, guess so," I reply.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you by being here. I stopped by earlier and your mom said you were asleep but I just wanted someone to be here when you woke up," he says softly.

"Thanks Ash," I reply, feeling appreciative of his thoughtfulness.

"Come here," he says, standing up, arms open wide for me.

I walk into his embrace as he holds me, crying. He wasn't there to talk, only to be there, and little did I know it was exactly what I needed. He brought a little bag of goodies to hangout, which included some Zombie movies, Game of Thrones, and Lord of the Rings to binge watch. With the best intentions, he brought a bunch of snacks that would never get eaten. Uncovering the last item, I was pleasantly surprised to see him pull out a bottle of whisky. I crank my head over to him with an eyebrow arched. He chuckles at my reaction.

"What? I know what works when nothing else does." He smirks then unscrews the bottle.Looking at me cautiously, his face drops into sadness.

"To Dane," he says before taking a swig and handing me the bottle.

I can't bring myself to even say his name, but you better believe I took that drink for him.

"Wanna watch Return of the King?" he suggests, pulling out the DVD.

"Sure." I shrug.

"Just so you're aware, I'm not here to talk, only catch up on my movies and get along with my drinking habit," he declares with a serious face.

I burst out smiling with a snort at his joke, causing the biggest grin to spread across his face.

"Do your parents know about this drinking habit of yours?" I ask playfully.

"Well, no, but they did drop me off and will be picking me up later as I will be unable to drive." He chuckles lightly.

"Your parents are my new favorite people."

"Hey, your parents helped me facilitate this, they're pretty damn cool too," he says with a grin.

"I suppose losing the love of your life is cause for teenage drinking," I say in a sarcastic tone, taking the bottle from him and letting the brown liquid burn down my throat into my chest, warming the emptiest part of me.

"It fucking sucks," he says sincerely, looking to me with hurt in his eyes. "It all just fucking sucks."

I realized I love his response. I didn't want someone to say, I'm sorry for your loss, or it'll be alright in time. It wouldn't. He simply agreed with what I was thinking. This fucking sucked, and I loved him for keeping it real with me.

We end up sitting on my bed, backs against the backboard, passing the bottle back and forth to each other, taking swigs, until we watch the scene in the movie where Sam delivers his speech to Frodo. The line comes where he's telling him, "there's still some good in the world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for." I glance over to Asher's glossed-over eyes just as he was looking over at me with a little grin and a light shrug, insinuating the line got to him.

At that moment, I realized just how thankful I am for his friendship. The stars had aligned to make it so that we had connected and became close friends. My heart told me Dane was happy he was here with me. Having someone just understand and be present in the ways I need, when I need it. It was the only thing that was holding me together. I could never repay him for that.

After finishing about half of the bottle, I have a nice buzz that seems to help numb some of my pain, temporarily at least. Asher calls his mom to come pick him up as he collects his stuff to head home.

"Thank you...for being here," I say, hands in my pockets, looking solemnly at the floor.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," he states kindly, giving me a big bear hug before handing me the rest of the bottle with a wink. "For later. Ya know, if you need it."

"Thanks." I give a half grin and walk him out of the door, where I hear him say a few words to my parents on his way out.

Closing my door, I slump over on my bed, feeling horribly depressed all over again. I sit back up, grab the bottle of whisky, and chug a few more gulps until the burning sting is almost too much to handle. Placing the first season of Game of Thrones in the DVD player, I sit back and watch until the buzz from the alcohol finally takes over and I fall into a deep sleep. A new form of torture I had yet to discover.