2019-05-22 - Working For The Man

The original plan to go straight over that night and talk to Felix got waylaid. That's just how things go sometimes: when your boss is a crimelord, you kind of have to expect meetings to get rescheduled. But Graham made it over there earlier this evening, which means now he's just pulled into the garage - he does not leave that car parked on the street, that's just madness - and spent a few minutes sitting in the driver's seat, composing himself.

Here's the roll before this pose gets finished.

The few minutes works pretty well. He finished his cigarette, even though he has a 'no smoking in the car' rule, stubbed it out, and came into the house through the side door. "El?" he calls from just inside, shooting a glance toward the curtains closed over the front window. He used a staple-gun and some thick plastic to tide them over till a window-repair guy could get out and solve the problem, and the plastic flip-flaps quietly behind the closed curtains. "El, we gotta talk." He'll just start up the stairs and save her the trouble of coming down them.

If she's in the kitchen or something, then he's wasted his efforts, but that's what happen when you act before you think, Graham.

It should be no surprise that Elise hasn't really been able to sleep, what with the assault and the brick through the window and learning your BFF4Lyfe is the minion of a notorious crime lord. Oh, not to mention that her back really hurts. So no, she wasn't upstairs, Graham, and that's what you get for acting before you think, Graham. Elise was in the kitchen, putting her now-warm ice pack in the freezer in exchange for a cold one, and she's a little jumpy right now so forgive the shout that pops out of her at the first 'El' called through the house.

"Shit, fuck, god dammit! Graham is that you?!" she's dropped the ice pack onto her feet, and is now trying to play the pinchy-toe game with it because it hurts to bend over 🙁 her toes are not covered in callouses tho so it's all good. "I'm in the fucking kitchen."

No one is around to hear Graham growl out through his nose that he just climbed halfway up the stairs and has to turn around and skid-bump his way back down them, but he does it anyway, in the fucking kitchen rabble rabble. He comes around the corner in time to see her trying to pinch the ice pack off the ground, leaving him to cross the room and - with his totally functional back - swing down and snag it, holding it on one palm for her to collect. All this happens very quickly, obviously, hence in just the one pose.

There's no conversational prelude for the question that comes while he's holding that ice pack for her: "Why does Felix Monaghan know your parents' business?"

It must be nice to have a fully functional back - that's how Elise's expression reads in the moment, when he comes into the kitchen after terrifying her to be all white knightish and retrieve her ice pack off the ground for her. She mumbles underneath her breath, pulling up the back of her long t-shirt and shoving the ice pack into the waist of her leggings, so it stays there and she doesn't have to hold it. She does all of this while staring at him, because the lack of proper segue into this conversation is leaving her flailing.

"I don't know, Graham," forgive the snark and sarcasm. She's in pain 🙁 "For all I know, they're working with him too! It wouldn't surprise me, seeing as my entire life with my supposed best friend has been a LIE!" Okay, well, she might be a little upset about last night.

But wait. The realization hits her like a brick to the back, and the color drains out of her cheeks. "Wait wait scroll back what do you mean, Felix Monaghan knows about my parents' business???"

Graham's eyes blaze for a second when she gets all yelling at him, and he reels back from her with his teeth clicking together audibly. "Not the time to start in on me, El," is all he'll say about that. Here, she can take her ice pack. He's going over here, to the cupboard, and getting himself a glass and some ice and having some water to literally cool down. He should get an ice pack, too, but nooooo, he has to come out of these things all physically unscathed. More rabble rabble.

"Yeah." He takes out some aggression on the freezer door, slamming it and putting ice in his glass like both of these things deserve to be ill-treated. "Like, he is all up in their business. He knows about the hotel, and he knows your dad is fucking sick, which means he knows them. So let's fucking talk about that."

"Oh, I'm fucking sorry. Let me know when your schedule opens up and we can pencil me down for an appropriate time for me to lose my shit over what you told me," Elise remarks, and he can take all the aggression he wants over the freezer door, she'll just be over here trying not to jump out of her skin from how on-edge she is in the moment. She pushes the ice pack into her back and eases herself uncomfortably in a chair, lips bowing into a frown.

"My parents have owned the Sea View for forever, it's public fucking record. Everybody is always up in everybody's shit in this place. Why wouldn't Felix Monaghan know who owns what?" But even with the very logical explanation, it wouldn't be difficult to see that it concerns Elise, what with the deep knit of her brow and the frown on her lips. "He isn't going to hurt them, is he? Did he say he was going to hurt them, Graham?"

For her sarcasm, she gets told, "Okay. Will do." Graham adds water to his cup of ice and drinks a bunch of it while Elise is rationalizing the reason that his boss knows her parents' business. He also collapses his shoulders against the refrigerator door; if she has magnets or stuff stuck to it, then they are all fucked up now, so there. Yes, he recognizes her emotional distress, but the time to tiptoe around the problem is well and truly past: "There's a big difference between knowing who owns what and knowing that your dad is fucking sick, El. And he knows your dad is fucking sick. Why would he know that?"

Her latter question... well, he drinks more water, crossing one arm over his midsection and banging the back of his head against the refrigerator a few times. She can interpret that however she wants.

Just like that, whatever anger that was welling up inside of Elise was extinguished. He bangs his head back against the refrigerator and she lifts her hands to her face, and chokes back a sob. "They didn't even do anything, I didn't even do anything! I just went on a goddamn date, Graham!" she smacks her hands onto the kitchen table, forgets about the pain in her back, and lurches into a standing position. "You need to go back, you need to go back and tell him to leave my parents out of this, it doesn't have anything to do with them! Shit, shit, SHIT!" she throws her hands up, and starts around the table, to where her phone is on the counter.

"I'll get them out of town," she was in full-fledged panic mode, WTG Graham. "Where can I send them that he can't get to them? Thailand? Can he get to them in Thailand??"

"If Felix is in your business? You did something to invite him there." That much, Graham knows for sure. He keeps beating his head while he says this, making the ice in his glass go clink-clink with every muffled thud. "There's no going back, El. You don't - " Get it, because she's not a criminal, G. That sinks in right before he blurts it out, and he stops clunking his head, at least, crossing the kitchen and dropping off his glass on the counter along the way.

He puts his hand over the phone, and either they're about to wrestle or it or they're not, but he's not trying to let her call her parents and tell them to pack and move to Thailand. "That's not how this works. There's no getting out. They're in. I dunno how deep or for how long they've been in? But they're in." At least he tries to say all this a little softer, softens his expression while he looks sympathetically at her. "So're you."

"Nope, nope. No. You're wrong. My parents own a shitty little motel, Graham, they barely had enough money to send me to nursing school, they aren't involved with Felix fucking Monaghan!" Poor, naive Elise Kruger, whose tiny little world has just been repeatedly carpet-bombed the past few nights. This was enough to throw her off the edge though, and she has half a mind to grab the nearest knife and chop off his hand when he reaches to put it over her phone. At least she thinks twice before she does that.

Instead? Instead, she turns sharply on her heel and pushes her finger into his chest. Like a 'you listen here, mister!' sort of gesture, she stabs him three times. "No. Fuck you," she says to his soft and sympathetic expression. "I am not in with anything. I'm not a criminal, Graham, I'm a fucking nurse! You've known me your entire life, you've known my parents your entire fucking life! We are not in with Felix Monaghan, I am not IN with Felix fucking Monaghan!"

Cool, then Graham just takes her phone and puts it in his back pocket, along with his, so as to eliminate any future temptations. He opens his mouth to argue at all that nope-nope and what follows it, but winds up closing it without uttering a word, taking the chest-poking like a champ. Then, looking down at her patiently, "You done?"

Elise is far too busy hysterically raging at him and poking him with her finger SEVERAL. MORE. TIMES. to make her point. She misses the fact that he straight up steals her phone off the counter top. "No!" she's not done, actually. She shoves her finger one more time into his chest. "I went on a date. A bad date! Going on a bad date doesn't suddenly involve you with a fucking crime lord Graham just GO BACK and tell him I'm not in! We're not in." And then the emotion gets the better of her, and her hand falls flat on his chest and she suddenly lets out a low sob, planting her face right into his chest.

She was done now.

Reasonably and rationally, Graham - who starts to squint in pain at the repeated poking - says, "First off, El, your parents are already in. There's nothing I can do about that. Felix knows them, knows their business, that's fucking done, and you're just going to have to square with that." But then she's sobbing, and whatever 'second off' was going to be gets put on the back-burner for a minute. He hugs her, like a good guy would. (He's not one, but he tries to be where Elise is concerned WHICH IS WHAT GOT THEM INTO THIS PREDICAMENT, so...)

And he eyes the ceiling for some kind of inspiration. It's not giving him any, so hugging and petting her hair is about as much as he can do right now. He waits out the crying.

Being reasonable and rational wasn't what Elise needed right now, Graham. It just makes her sob suddenly louder into his chest. So she was already gonna need a moment of the hugging and petting, but now she was gonna need two moments, and he was just going to have to shut up and deal with it. The ceiling will provide nothing - no hope, no inspiration, nothing. #sorrynotsorry.

But eventually, Elise will cry all that she can cry. Eventually, she's not so much sobbing as she is hiccuping and leaking tears into his shirt. Even more eventually, that stops too, and she's got her arms around him but she peels her face off his now tear-stained shirt. At least she's got that sexy-vulnerable thing going on right now? "What," sniffle, oh there's a snot bubble, so much for the sexy thing. "Is the 'second off' supposed to be?"

Yeah, if Graham wasn't about to have to potentially ruin her carefully retrieved calm all over again? It would totally be a Moment, even with the snot-bubble. But rest assured, he thinks about having the Moment first, just winds up kissing her on top of the head and then using the front of his shirt to wipe her boogers for her. It's not like that's the grossest thing he's ever worn.

Second off, "I think I fucked up, and now Felix knows you're a nurse, and yeah. You kinda have to help me fix something." He totally tenses, 'cause he's expecting to get clocked by her Thai kung fu.

It was sweet, what he does with the head-kissing and the snot-wiping, even if it wasn't the 'Moment' that they keep dancing around. It's enough to temporarily put her at ease, only for him to send another shock right through her system with his words and his tensing up.

She doesn't hit him. Yet. Instead, she stares up at him, leaning back so that she can make sure that their eyes make contact. "What do you mean, you fucked up? I thought you said Felix knew about me already."

"I mean, I fucked up." Why is she not hearing his words today? What is that? Graham only slows it down a little, not like she's deaf or ESL or anything, but like he needs to make sure this comes out nice and clearly. He. Fucked. Up. "He's gonna let me deal with Collins - er, Lukas. Collins. But yeah." He holds the eye-contact, so good for him, but his are squinting pretty hard to answer hers, like he can narrow them to the point that he doesn't have to see this explosion happening in focus. "But I gotta take him to the hospital afterward. And you're expected to help make sure he doesn't die. And that no one asks any inconvenient questions." He's still waiting to get hit.

Look, Elise has been through a lot today. So hopefully she can be forgiven for the reaction that she has when he reveals just how he fucked up. She blinks, once, twice... and then bursts into laughter. It's not quite the hysterical laughter of someone who is going quite mad? But it's close.

It's scary close.

"Oh okay! Oh god, okay, phew!" she slides away from him, wiping her hand across her brow, and she's still laughing. "You really fucking got me, but I get it now! This is all a fucking joke! You are a terrible person, Graham, jesus!"

Graham just. Like. Steps back. And folds his arms. And gives the laugh a few seconds to exist, pushing an air bubble around inside his cheeks. It bulges around on one side, across the front of his teeth, and puffs out on the other side. And then he squishes it out through his lips with a little flapping. "Yeah. No. Seriously, though. I'm gonna beat him with a brick and drop him off at the hospital. Like." He checks his watch. "Tomorrow."

They are both too young to remember the Simpson's episode where Ralph is laughing on the bus like 'hehe I'm in danger' but it's a good meme and precisely describes the tone that Elise's laughter has taken. Give her like thirty more seconds and she'll probably be crying again, but right now? It's just that girlish chuckle.

"Oh. Wow. I'm pretty fucked, aren't I?" And not even in that good way.

Is that the same kid that's like 'my nose makes its own bubble gum?' Cuz, if so, hearing it loud and clear.

Graham nods with a sort of hapless resignation. Like, he has been in this position for a while now, has no more tears to shed for his own lack of a future, but he does look a little sorry for fucking Elise (and not even in the good way). "Kinda yeah. I mean." What does he mean? What can he possibly say here?

"As long as you sorta stay in line, it's not so bad. He's not a fucking psychopath or anything." Cold comfort! "Just do your part and don't ask questions." Beat. "Or favors." Stupid Graham, stupid stupid stupid.

He's also the same kid that said 'it tastes like burning!' on the Lord of the Flies episode 😃

The chuckles taper off at the response from Graham, and though she's got a sort of stunned smile on he face, it's probably relatively easy to understand that it isn't a happy expression. Dark eyes blink again, and the expression falls flat, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "I.." she starts, but words fail her in the moment, so she stumbles back to the table to fall into the chair she abandoned when she was screaming at him.

"I need a drink."

"I completely respect that." If Graham hadn't chain-smoked half a pack of cigarettes in the four minutes it takes to drive from the club to the garage, he would probably still smell like whiskey-and-beer. Since she's sitting down, he assumes that making drinks is on him - which is fucked up, because it's not like he's all 'here do nurse stuff' every time she walks in the door, but she keeps making him bring his jobs home; they will have to discuss this at some point - and puts himself into motion to accomplish this.

They must have booze in this house somewhere. He pours her a glass of something not completely nasty, on the rocks. Vodka. He'll have one, too. "May we all come to peaceful ends. And leave our debts unto our friends." Irritating smile.

Yes, they can definitely talk about him bringing his job home later. She'll love a chance to rehash the story about how HE GOT HER INVOLVED WITH THE FUCKING GRAY HARBOR MOB.

Elise's hands were a little shaky when they wrap around the glass of vodka he delivers, and she flinches at the talk of coming to a peaceful end. But at least she doesn't cry, because she's done enough of that in this scene. Instead, she holds up her glass. "Hear, hear," she says sullenly, and throws back that drink like she's a basic white girl in the club shooting tequila. When there's nothing left but ice, she casually pushes the glass back to him, a silent 'hit me again, bartender' gesture. "So uhm. How long .. have you been.." beating people with bricks, getting friends involved with criminals? ".. You know. Doing this. Kind of work?"

FIRST OFF, Graham is not the one that swiped right.

SECOND OFF, he's making her a drink. So just calm the fuck down.

Graham's brows lift when she drinks the whole thing he went to all the trouble of pouring over ice for her, but okay, he'll just glug-glug a little more into the glass. And take his time with his. He is, after all, a shot and a beer ahead of her already and also already at peace with his lot in life. "Forever? Cons and poker, anyway." He gives her a brow-knitty look across the table while he settles himself into a chair, finally over the need to stand around, so that's progress. A little bit relaxed, anyway. tl;dr - "And now I work for Felix."

Elise doesn't outright say 'thank you' when he pours her another, but there's a brief softening to her expression as she pulls the glass back her way. This one, she takes a little slower. "I guess that makes sense. I just thought it was.. you know. Something you did. Not something you did as a job," she frowns into her cup, tapping her fingers against the glass. "You know, like that one time when you were fucking the guidance counselor and they let you graduate even though you were failing Algebra," Elise remembers. It was probably one of the reasons they never hooked up in high school, even if there were plenty of Moments to be had.

She lifts the glass, watching him from over the rim of it while she drinks. When she sets the glass down again, it's with a lingering sigh. "Have you ever thought about.. I don't know. Quitting?"

"And biology. And technically whatever that class was that wasn't history but really was history." He probably means civics (or whatever that class is called nowadays.) Graham shrugs and smiles, a duo of gestures that have gotten him through much more difficult conversations in his life, so why not trot them out right here and now? The list of classes he failed is pretty long, so he stops listing them, and his smile pulls askew when she gets to that big sigh.

This is a hard thing to say to someone who just got into this 'business,' so he takes a sip first, and he finds a delicate tone. "It doesn't work like that." Quitting.

It nets him a laugh, a soft one that tinkles into the glass of her vodka on the rocks. "Civics. You maybe would've passed it if you hadn't kept sleeping through all the tests though," she replies, easing into a familiar ribbing before this new reality smacks her in the face again. Her eyes drop to her ice cubes, and she drains the cup, sending it back to him for the refill.

"I guess that makes sense. I mean apparently you don't even have to apply to get the job in the first place, so why would you be able to quit if you want to?" she laughs again, but this has a far dryer quality to it, her expression falling into something somber as she looks across the table at him. There is a brief quiet, and then..

"I would have helped you," there's a crack of emotion in those words, because she means it so much. "I could've helped you study, I could've helped you pass your classes. You wouldn't have had to .. to seduce the counselor," and she doesn't say it, but the thought is clear - if he hadn't banged the counselor, maybe they wouldn't be in this situation right now.

Graham deserved that, about the 'don't even have to apply.' So says the long look he gives the glass instead of Elise, the way it gets turned on the table top, like its orientation at this moment is important. It's not, but he gets it situated just so while wearing a rueful smile and saying nothing. What is there to say? Whoopsorrymybad?

"I know," that she could've helped. He looks back across the table now, at least. "But this is what I'm good at, Elly. It's what I'm cut out for. And except for this?" His fingers fold in the air between the two of them, the implication being that he's just folded her into this mess. "I don't hate my job." And looks like he knows how that makes him a horrible human. 🙁

Elise blinks a few times, enough to flick a few tears to her lashes and off. "I don't know if I can believe that," she admits, "Not really. I've known you forever, Graham," or for what feels like forever anyway. "And I was never like, 'oh here's the kind of guy that loves beating people with bricks'." She might get a little choked up there at the end, but she drowns that sorrow in another mouthful of vodka. At least the drinking has brought some color to her cheeks, a little pink flush under her eyes. And the thought occurs to her then, something truly horrifying, and it opens up a pit in her stomach.

"Graham, if I don't.. If I can't.. help Lukas.." she swallows hard, eyes big and shiny as she stares back up at him. ".. Are you going to hurt me?"

Should Graham lie? He thinks about it for the second in between when she makes that comment about bricks and when he answers carefully, "Random strangers? No. But, baby, I'm not not looking forward to beating this motherfucker with a brick." Wow, this conversation sucks. He looks pretty sad about having it, not just a little bit of pain dragging down his features.

Which only gets worse when Elise asks that question. Honestly, "No. I'm not gonna hurt you." But. He exhales. "Someone else will, though. It'll be outta my hands." He pantomimes the bullet to the temple that he'll get as a result. If he's lucky.

Okay, wow, that was graphic. It wasn't possible for Elise's eyes to get any wider in the moment, else they'd pop right out of her head. Remember that color that was coming back to her face? Well now that adorable pink flush was joined by a distinct greening around the gills. She gets up suddenly - too suddenly, actually, considering the three glasses of vodka in quick succession, but hey, she doesn't fall to the floor. There's just a quick grab for the table to right herself. "Shit," she mumbles, maybe about her tipsiness, probably about the bullet he was going to get to his head and the brick she was going to get to her face.

"Okay, okay," okay, she takes a step and then another one, and then rounds the rest of the table to crawl onto his lap. This is sadly not the kind of sexy straddling that leads to slow banging, but she just kind of dumps herself onto him. Good thing she weighs about 14 pounds soaking wet. "We'll fix this," she promises, gathering his cheeks up into her hands and staring right into his face. "I can do this. It's not like he.. you know. And I-I-I .. I mean I've had to look after bad people before. I can do this. You don't.. you don't have to worry." About getting a bullet to the brian.

He also doesn't have to worry about getting a bullet to the brain. Hopefully he doesn't know any Brians 🙁

Peace out, Brian. 🙁

RIP BRIAN!

"Yeah, kinda." Shit, he means. Light-weight over there is three glasses in, and Graham has just now hit the bottom of the first. But, again, he's been dealing with this knowledge for years, so no judgment. He leans out of the chair, about to quit it entirely and give her a hand so she doesn't eat the shit she was just talking about, but winds up with a lap full of Elise instead. Sexy-free Elise, but beggars can't be choosers, Graham.

He draws his arms around her promptly, since he's good at that, and looks right back at her, calmly. "I'm not worried." He's a liar. 😃 "And. Hey. At least you don't have to be nice to the guy. Take a year to find a vein, turn down the morphine, accidentally elbow him in the throat. Yanno, enjoy yourself." He smiles at her. But it's also a wince. A smile and a wince all rolled into one.

She might be drunk but she's not stupid, and she knows when she's being lied to. So his calm look earns him a dubious squint, a frown that gets chased away when she leans in to plant a kiss right there on the side of his mouth. "No," she says flatly. "I'm a better nurse than that," despite what her medicine rolls might say. Then she wraps her arms around his neck and stays close, so that he can feel the heat of her breath on his skin, and sure it smells like vodka mixed with mint toothpaste, but she also smells like lavender so that should be delightful!

"I won't let them hurt you, I promise," cross her heart and hope to .. stay alive? "I'll just do this and you know.. you know. It'll be over."

Yes, yes. She knows when she's being lied to. Graham will start funneling his XP into his lying stats - just as soon as he's done buying all his 'beat people with bricks' stats.

And maybe his 'swallow visibly after that kiss' stats. He has a lot of stats to buy.

"Yeah, but you don't have to be a better person. In this particular instance." His hands would be doing things on her back right now, but there's an ice-pack stuffed into the back of her pants, so they just settle at her hips and stay there for now, reminded of the ice pack - and the reason it's there - when the ends of his fingers find the plasticky-bump by accident. "I'mma be okay, okay?" he says, quietly but no less certainly for the lowness of it. It's just quiet 'cause his breath is kinda... over there... with the vodka-toothpaste-lavender smell. "I do my part. You do your part. And it'll be fine." Not over, he didn't say that, those are her words!

"Okay," Elise's own voice was quiet, a rush of warm air against his skin while her lips were still hovering over that spot on the corner of his mouth. She was keenly aware of his hands, the position of his fingers, the ice pack and the reason it's there. Just like she was keenly aware of his own scent, and the heat of his own breath, and the way his arms feel around her waist. "I'm still gonna worry about you, Graham. This.. this doesn't change that," and maybe, most likely, this makes that that much worse. "This doesn't.. this doesn't change anything," she says quietly, firmly, words that are heartfelt even if they were boldfaced lies.

Because this.. this changes everything.

And yet there she was, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. Lingering there, soft lips and warm breath and vodka-toothpaste-lavender smells. Only for a second though, enough to quicken the heartbeat and make her feel lightheaded, before she looses a quiet laugh and tips her head to bump it down onto his shoulder. "I think I'm drunk," she admits.

With a breathy chuckle, Graham quips back, "Cool, that makes two of us." Who will be worried about him. "Just also have a little faith, too? I know when I'm in over my head," LOL HE SO DOES NOT. "And. Hey. You should see the guy that'll be coming with me to collect this asshole." Talk talk talk, that's how Graham plans to get himself out of all of these situations, including the one where he really wants Elise to just stay on his lap for, like, ever.

There are noises other than talking that communicate this plan, like the little one that comes out of his nose for that second kiss. Then he gets a hand back off of her hips, wipes the back of it over his mouth, and breathes out importantly. "Oh, you think?" The second chuckle is a good bit more composed, and he's able to settle a much less fraught hug around her at that admission. "Did you eat anything at all today, slim? 'Cause three glasses of vodka in all fourteen pounds of you on an empty stomach?"

Perhaps God was smiling down on Graham today, because with the way that Elise lays her head on his shoulder? It seems unlikely that she was going to move off his lap any time soon. Though, really, maybe it was the Devil smiling on Graham tonight, considering the fact that her lips were brushing up against his neck from the tilt of her head. "I don't think you do," know when he's in over his head, "But it's okay. I'll look out for you. You'll look out for me. That's what.." friends? "..we do."

Then she puts a kiss there, right there on the side of his neck, and nuzzles her nose into the spot after as he hugs his arms about her. Did she eat? "Hmm?" Doubtful, considering. "I like the way you hug me," she murmurs. And also, "You smell good."

No, because Graham has to go to work tonight and rob some boat. He will almost definitely get shot at least once. Then he has to go beat some guy with a brick. So God must be busy smiling at someone else, probably one of those people that goes to church. He seems to be all-up-on those people.

Regardless, he manages to keep chuckling like this is just as fine as everything else going sideways in his life, another heavy swallow from his jaw all the way down his throat. "Okay, you do that," he says through that chuckle-swallow-thing - look out for him, he means. Quickly, after that kiss and after he gets told he smells good, Graham chin-nudges her head away from his neck, quit-it, and insists, "Now I know you're fucking drunk." Because normally he's getting told he stinks. And he knows he smells like an ashtray right now. Pried out of him, while his fingers are all flexing impatiently on the back of her hips and starting to peel up the back of her shirt, speaking of quit-it, he points out, "You best get off me so I can make you a sammich, woman. If you pass out, I'mma leave you on the kitchen floor."

Also, he is sitting on both their phones right now. Just remembered that.

"Hmmmmm," Elise quits it at the chin-nudge with emphasis on the 'mm' rather than the 'h', sliding until her cheek comes to rest closer towards the middle of his shoulder than right there at her neck. "Maybe," she was fucking drunk. But certainly he doesn't just smell like an ashtray, assuredly he took a shower. At some point. In the week. And then he had to go and do that thing where he peels up the back of her shirt, and so she had to go and do the thing where she stopped quitting the nuzzle of her face against his neck, because if he's not gonna quit it?

Well neither is she.

"I'm okay. I like it here," she replies, and pecks her lips against the side of his neck again. "You feel good. Warm," she sighs, and maybe she's aware enough to know he's got her phone in his pocket, which is why she isn't squirming. Too much. Just a quick wiggle. "Sometimes I wish you hadn't fucked the counselor, G." Just a quiet confession.

Okay, but he does stop. He's lifted two handfuls of shirt because she's wearing a long t-shirt as mentioned at the top of this scene, but it's only enough to get Graham's hands under the shirt but still on her hips and over her pants because that's where he stops, GDI. She's drunk, and he knows that. "So do you," with the feeling good, the squirm that leaves him biting his lip but bad with his eyes pinched closed.

One more - just one more! - shaky chuckle, and then. Seriously. He pulls his head and the neck she keeps kissing way back, as far as he can lean them without tipping the whole chair over. "You're gonna say something you regret if you keep running your mouth, Ellybean. Learn when to zip it." Pro-tip! With honest concern, he gets his hands out from under her shirt and scoops her chin with one of them, looking for her eyes to say, "Seriously. You need to eat something."

Yes, he does stop, but the quiet, breathy sounds that she makes against his neck when his hands come to rest on the hips of her pants are encouragement not to. She even shifts her own hand up, settling fingers along the back of his neck, scratching a touch right there at his hairline. "You know what else? Sometimes I wish.." she was going to continue on that train of thought, but then he has to go and pull his head all the way back, and it leaves her wincing.

There was no greater feeling of discomfort than what Elise feels in this moment. Her nose wrinkles up as he picks up her chin and brings her eyes up to his own, and she pulls back after a moment with a twist of her body. "You ever think I regret never saying anything at all?" she replies, but the moment's over, and she still had enough wits around her to know she was drunk. Hell, she said it herself.

"Nevermind, I'm fine," she mumbles, pushing her hand into his chest to keep herself steady, no more lap for Elise. She finds solid ground and pushes herself to her feet. She's wobbly, but while she may weeble-wobble, she won't fall down. "I'm sorry. I'm fine. I want to go to bed, I haven't slept. I want to sleep, I have to sleep, if I'm gonna be able to.. you know. Tomorrow."

Maybe Graham's discomfort isn't greater, per se, but at least she can stand up right now; he's physiologically impaired at the moment, so he just stays sitting down, shifting like it has something to do with the phones in his pocket and not, yanno, bits. He still reaches with a steadying hand, despite the situation, now squinting up at her for a second and trying to find a smile that fits the moment. There isn't one, so he winds up with something like a grimace. "A'ight," he says of all that going-to-bed. Normally, this is where he'd make a joke about going with her...

...but now's not the time, G. So he gulps in a breath and explains, "I'mma order pizza in a minute. So." Thumbs-up, he'll be doing something productive. "And then I have some shit to take care of tonight. But - " More awkward shifting, this time so he can get her phone out of his pocket and put it on the table. " - call me if you need anything. But don't call your parents. Or anyone else. Or mention this whole Felix-thing. To anyone. All right?"

Maybe he will die tonight and get what he deserves.

Look, Elise has her own problems to deal with. Like the fact that the room is spinning, and the fact that she really wants another shot of vodka to forget the taste of his skin, and the fact that she was staring at his lips and the world was tilting and bringing her towards him again and .. Nope. No, Elise, don't do it.

She jerks back, out of his hand, almost smacks herself into the counter, and in a sudden fluster of annoyance and frustration and maybe a tiny bit of pain, she throws up her hand at him. "Whatever," she snaps, and then somehow makes it upstairs to be a bitch in her bed.

But she slams the door. Take that. That's what you get, door.

And yes, that does mean she leaves her phone on the table. Oh well.

That's okay. Graham blows it up before he leaves.

BUT SERIOUSLY.
Be cool
This is important
Really important
So read all these messages
And be cool
Ok?
Ok!
Sleep well
Eat some pizza
Be cool
BE COOL
<3
Also the window guy is coming tomorrow
Please read all these messages
<3

And leaves her some Tylenol and a bottle of water on the table by the phone. In case he dies. She'll be able to be hydrated.