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A/N: I had this in my drafts for a while now, and I just got back to it while cleaning out my folder. Kinda (loosely) based on my own experience drinking, but it's nothing heavy. That said: drink responsibly.

Also, this will be the last SooShu fic for now. I just need to finish up this other one, and I'll go back to writing for my main ships again.

(Italics) are lyrics taken from the song referenced in the foreword. (Note that they're not set in a specific order, and a few are edited from the original.)

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᠁

 

Step one: drink

 

There’s plenty of reasons why alcohol is considered “liquid courage”.

 

In Shuhua’s case, anxiety gets a lot easier to deal with after downing four cups of beer. Faces start to blur under the multi-colored lights and smoke, merging together into an amalgamation of sorts, until she ends up forgetting who they actually belong to.

 

Besides, she’d be too intoxicated to care about them anyway. No worries? No problem.

 

(my liver's killing me.)

 

The liquid courage (or whatever this brown stuff is, probably some ty booze) has been sitting at the bottom of Shuhua’s red solo cup for the past few minutes. Sloshing around and splashing against the plastic with every drop of the bass behind her, blasting out the most obnoxious EDM playlist from the giant speakers in the living room, while the crowd jumps to Afrojack’s “Rock The House” on max volume.

 

(whisky.)

 

She’s talking to someone who looks awfully intimidating with her sharp eyes and fierce get-up—what’s with the leather jackets these days?—and Shuhua doesn’t really know what they’re chatting about. But the beer is still flowing like a fountain for the wasted youth, so that’s fine with her.

 

(i’m trying to cut back.)

 

Her head begins to clear, albeit slightly, just as a group of boys stumble past them. Hanging off each other’s shoulders like a merry foursome, until someone trips and falls into the heaping pile of red cups and empty bottles. A few of which, belonged to Shuhua and “Company”.

 

(wine.)

 

The pretty girl standing nearby accidentally bumps her arm against Shuhua’s, and cool, dark liquid spills down her white dress shirt. Staining it with deep streaks of merlot red as it felt cold against her skin, and the “Beauty” apologizes in-between fits of drunken giggles. She doesn’t mind.

 

(i’m trying to cut back.)

 

The person Shuhua was talking to is already long gone by the time she exits the bathroom, her hair in damp tangles after she almost fell asleep with her face in the tiny sink.

 

(they say everything in moderation.)

 

Pushing aside the wet strands that have fallen over her eyes, she gravitates to the magnetic pull of a near-empty cooler when she’s suddenly halted in her tracks by a hand grasping her forearm. Gentle, but unyieldingly firm. Even after Shuhua had spun on her heel to greet its familiar owner.

 

“Jin-Jin-aaaahhh~”

 

There’s plenty of staggering hither and tither (along with a few head bumps against the shoulder), before Shuhua complies with Soojin’s strict command to “please focus, or else we’ll both fall down the stairs”, and she makes it to the sidewalk in one piece. Her face is greeted by the clean air of the outside world, and it feels so damn refreshing that she ends up sighing loudly. Prompting a small chuckle from the older girl as she guided her towards the car.

 

The ride home is silent and peaceful. A welcome change from the rambunctious environment of that house party she just attended, and Shuhua is content with closing her eyes as she settles back into the passenger seat—the bitter taste of alcohol still lingering on her tongue.

 

 (i get drunk a little too much for it to be healthy.)

 

 

᠁

 

 

Step two: make mistakes

 

“Careful, Shu. Easy does it… there you go.”

 

Maybe she’s too buzzed right now, but someone must’ve added a few extra steps for Shuhua to trip on. If it weren’t for Soojin holding her all the way to their floor—why the is the elevator busted?—she would’ve lost a tooth or two.

 

But even with Soojin’s arm still wrapped around her waist, Shuhua feels too heavy. Her head is like a separate weight on her body, and the exhaustion is starting to creep up her bones. It’s clear that she had one too many drinks for the night, because her center of gravity is ed up enough for her to nearly bump against every other door in the hallway.

 

“How was the party?” Soojin asked once they reached the front door of their shared apartment. “Did you have fun?”

 

Shuhua mutters some incoherent gibberish while her flatmate fumbles with the keys. One hand trying to jam the darn thing into the lock, and the other keeping the Taiwanese from losing her balance.

 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Soojin tells her after prying the door open, shouldering it aside to give them room, and Shuhua lurches forward in a daze. Stepping past the threshold before ultimately crashing against the wall, tired and wasted, as she palms at it weakly. Her head resting on the cold surface while her eyelids start fluttering shut.

 

Normally (and Soojin hates that this happens enough to warrant this term), Shuhua would just laugh it off and continue her wavering trek towards her bedroom. But for some reason, tonight is different.

 

(i’m not just drunk.)

 

Soojin could only watch as Shuhua slides down to the floor. Her face hidden behind a curtain of black tresses, and the hands that reach up to cover it.

 

“Shuhua…?”

 

The older girl is worried (and rightfully so) when she notices her trembling a bit, so she quickly shuts the door behind them before rushing over to kneel by her side.

 

“Shuhua, what’s—”

 

Her words are cut prematurely once Shuhua uncovers her face, and Soojin feels her heart break at the sight of those tear-streaked cheeks and reddened eyes that glare down at the carpet. Her mother instincts kick in as she’s already pulling her best friend into a hug. Burying her nose into the unruly mane that smells of cheap beer while Shuhua embraces her tightly. Angry tears fall onto Soojin’s sweater, but the growing dampness is the least of her concerns.

 

Because Shuhua is clutching onto her like she’s the only thing that’s keeping her grounded.

 

“W-Why…” The Taiwanese mumbled into her shoulder, sounding so lost and broken. “Why do I keep falling back…?”

 

(no one wants to tell me.)

 

Soojin doesn’t know what to say, so she just tightens her arms around the vulnerable form. Hoping, praying, that her presence would be enough to hold Shuhua together. To anchor her from the spiraling depths of melancholy as it tries to drag Shuhua into the dark recesses of her mind—a place that Soojin might not be able to reach her through if she lets her fall deep enough.

 

(i need to run dry.)

 

It takes a couple failed attempts for her to realize that Shuhua isn’t relenting. Every time Soojin tries to stand up or move at all, the Taiwanese just clings to her even more. She can’t leave Shuhua like this, halfway sprawled on the dirty carpet in a mumbling mess of alcoholic slurs, but her drunken state is hard to budge. And Soojin…

 

She doesn’t have the heart to scold her when she’s already so pitiful to look at.

 

In-between sniffles and uneven sobs, Shuhua does manage to say a few things. But they’re smothered against the fabric of Soojin’s sweater, no matter how much she tries to understand them.

 

Eventually, Shuhua pulls away long enough for Soojin to catch her next words.

 

“… I don’t even know what to do anymore. It’s like I’m acting on the force of habit, and—"

 

(i really think i'm in love with you.)

 

“—I can’t seem to break out of it.”

 

Suddenly, she’s swaying forward in her inebriated state. Losing her center of balance and crashing her face into Soojin’s, lips first as their teeth rattle from the impact. It’s a bit painful, mostly awkward, and certainly not how they imagined their first kiss to be like—until Shuhua realizes what she’s done and just goes for it.

 

(i'll drink you under the table, baby.)

 

The kiss is a lot less awkward now, even though Soojin is reciprocating just a little. One part confused, and two parts in disbelief. It’s only after a few seconds that she becomes painfully aware of their heavy breathing, the quiet gasp that escapes when Shuhua bites on her bottom lip, and the pungent taste of mild alcohol.

 

She then pulls away, and God… it’s a sight to behold.

 

Soojin can only hope that she never forgets how her eyelashes seem to brush against her flushed cheekbones, how breathtakingly enticing Shuhua looks with her tousled hair framing her bold visuals, and how her rouge lips are parted slightly. Sending puffs of hot breath that would at Soojin’s own skin, like flames trying to leave their mark on her.

 

The Taiwanese opens to say something, until she’s abruptly cut off by a yawn. Followed by her swaying to the side before hitting the wall again, fast asleep.

 

(okay, i really am just drunk…)

 

 

᠁

 

 

Step three: pretend you don't remember

 

The next morning, Shuhua wakes up to the blindingly harsh light that’s seeping through the curtains. Washing over her bare face in a stream of radiant white as the sun greeted her by the window.

 

The first thing she notices, aside from the throbbing pain in her frontal lobe—, my head feels like it got hit by a freight train—is that she’s sprawled over Soojin’s bed, lying underneath a thick blanket that smells of tart cherry and musky amber. Subtle, but still present in the cotton like an everlasting scent of its owner, who is nowhere to be found.

 

(i don't remember what i did last night.)

 

However, she hears the faint sound of a shower running in the background. And Shuhua feels safe enough to lie back on the sheets, staring up at the dull ceiling with a dazed look in her eyes, as she fights through this hangover that’s creeping into her skull.

 

(so, i might have done some things i didn't mean.)

 

The sound of running water stops, and is soon replaced by a door creaking open. Footsteps padding out and down the hallway, where they promptly disappear for a brief moment. She assumes that they’re going into either the living room or the kitchen area, until they suddenly return and head towards her room.

 

Well… Soojin’s room, actually.

 

For some reason, she forces her eyes shut. Pretending to be asleep when Soojin enters the bedroom with a glass of water in one hand, and a packet of aspirin in the other. Whether the older girl knew that Shuhua is awake or not, she makes no indication of it and simply places the two items on the nightstand. A soft sigh breaking through the silence when she looks down at her curled-up form, oblivious to how Shuhua’s heart twisted at her dejected undertone.

 

(it's nothing wrong with you, love.)

 

She feels a dip in the mattress before a pair of lips kissed her gently on the forehead, lingering for a couple seconds until they slowly retract. Their feather-light touch almost ghosting across her skin as Soojin climbs off the bed, yet Shuhua can still feel her presence when she stops by the doorway. Like she’s checking to see if the girl would “coincidentally” wake up as soon as she leaves the room.

 

But Shuhua remains still under the blanket, and she eventually goes back into the hallway. Most likely to prepare breakfast, even though Soojin would be eating it alone—again.

 

(it's something wrong with me.)

 

Shuhua is alone herself, and all she does is pull the blanket up to her face. It doesn’t do much in stifling the words that flood her mind, desperate to be said and heard. But they sure beat the self-deprecating thoughts that usually come with the post-hangover blues, so that’s more than enough for her.

 

(i don't want to remember what i did last night.)

 

 

᠁

 

 

Step four: drink a little more

 

Sneaking out to a party becomes easier when:

 

1. Your flatmate is clearly avoiding you for “reasons” (i.e. kissing them out of the blue, and not ever speaking about it).
2. It’s not exactly sneaking out if you’re a grown woman who can be held accountable for her own—stupid—actions. (also, see above)
3. Soojin might act like a mother figure, but she’s not your parent and you don’t need her permission to go anywhere.

 

Despite all that, Shuhua develops a habit of waiting till Soojin turns off the lights and retreats inside her bedroom. Then she grabs her coat and keys before slipping out into the night, mindful not to attract any noise when she closes the door behind her.

 

(one more shot, then i'm quitting forever.)

 

The house she finds herself in is lavishly huge. Just big enough to fit an entire batch of college students and a makeshift bar, which is loaded with every brand of alcohol available to them. It doesn’t take long for Shuhua to be pulled into a random group of people, because who would think twice about a stranger in a party?

 

Routine is accepting the drinks that are being handed to her. Normal is acting like she’s best friends with anyone who refills her cup, or gives her a fresh bottle of chilled beer. Natural is being around her peers instead of her actual best friend, who has yet to speak a full sentence to her ever since that night.

 

(but willingly, i'm going to tell whoever asks—)

 

“Hey, buddy. You feeling alright there?” Says the girl with a surprisingly deep voice as she fixes the cup in her faltering grasp.

 

(—that I feel all right.)

 

“Yeah, I’m good.”

 

The person shrugs before looping her arm around the taller girl sporting thick bangs and turquoise lenses, keeping her balanced when she nearly tips off her seat. It somehow reminded Shuhua of Soojin, who’d hold her steady every time she escorted the Taiwanese home after a night of heavy drinking. The only difference here is that these two are clearly comfortable with each other, no tension or unresolved matters keeping them apart, unlike Shuhua with her own damn flatmate.

 

It makes her jealous.

 

“Everything’s great. I feel… great.”

 

Her tone of voice makes it sound like she’s trying to convince herself, but her two “companions” just end up laughing in good mirth. Too buzzed to even notice the forlorn look in Shuhua’s downcast eyes as she forced a smile on her face, downing her sixth cup of beer while her phone goes unnoticed in the background.

 

Jin-Jin <3 is calling…

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

… Call ended.

 

 

᠁

 

 

Step five: run dry

 

It worries Soojin how much she’s grown used to this pattern.

 

How she’s not too alarmed when she wakes up to the sound of the front door being knocked open. How she’d expect Shuhua to come barreling inside their apartment late at night, completely hammered, and dragging herself along the wall for support. How her clothes would reek of alcohol and (sometimes) cigarettes, although the Taiwanese would often reassure that she wasn’t smoking.

 

“I’d destroy my liver, but not my lungs. I’m not that self-destructive.” Shuhua would often joke with a disbelieving laugh, no matter if Soojin didn’t find any humor in it.

 

Concerning as this was, she trusted Shuhua enough to find her way home on some nights. Tonight being one of them, despite the fact that she’s currently waiting for her in the living room. Her eyes flitting to the clock hanging above the foyer as she taps her foot anxiously.

 

Soojin is very aware of her friend’s “late-night escapades” (she doesn’t want to call them a “problem”, even though they really are). But when the door swings open at exactly 3:47 AM, she knew that it’s time.

 

“Shuhua.”

 

The older girl is already standing before Shuhua as she leans down to untie her shoelaces, and she glances up briefly with a confused look in her unfocused eyes.

 

“I really think we should talk now.”

 

Shuhua is steady when she stands up again, but Soojin catches the way that her feet are dragging along the carpeted floor. Her expression unreadable as she follows her quietly to the couch.

 

“What do you want, unnie?” She finally tells her when they’re settled on the lumpy cushions, her head hanging low as she looks down at her palms. “Why can’t you just let me be?”

 

(how come no one believes me?)

 

She sounds so utterly defeated, that it pains Soojin enough to have tears prickling her eyes.

 

“I just care too much to watch you wreck yourself like this.” Her voice cracks slightly as she spoke. “You and I both know that you don’t deserve to be treated this way… even by yourself.”

 

“If you really care about me, then why don’t you just leave me alone?” Shuhua’s eyes dart up with evident frustration behind them, but they soften just a bit when she sees her crying. “Why are you trying to meddle in my problems?”

 

“Because I love you…” Soojin declares in a moment of weakness and desperation, wiping at the tears that flow freely down her cheeks. “… And I love you too much to let you keep doing this to yourself.”

 

(believe me.)

 

“Why…?”

 

Shuhua doesn’t phrase this as a question, but more like a weary ultimatum. A white flag being raised in a battle that’s already been lost from the start.

 

Before she could even comprehend what’s happening, Soojin had scooted over and grasped her hands tightly. All of a sudden, everything else is too cold—even with her coat on—and Soojin is the only means of warmth inside the room. A sense of safety washed over her like a security blanket, and Shuhua couldn’t resist leaning closer to feel more of it.

 

“Oh, Shuhua…” She’s never been more pleased to hear her own name. “Why wouldn’t I?”

 

Soojin hugged her immediately, resting Shuhua’s head on her shoulder and supporting most of her rigid weight with her own body. The Taiwanese sighed against her neck. The feeling of relief being akin to that of a bed you’d sink into after a long day, with the comforters enveloping you like a cocoon. She never really thought of it before, but Soojin is like her comforter… in more ways than one.

 

“I’m sorry, unnie.” The words almost get lost in Soojin’s white nightgown, but the soft kiss on her temple says that she’s heard.

 

“I’m sorry too, Shu.” Soojin whispers into her ear. “But things will get better, I promise.”

 

(cross my heart.)

 

“And I’ll be right here if you need me.”

 

(cross my fingers.)

 

For the first time in a while, Shuhua has a genuine smile on her face. “Thank you.”

 

 

᠁

 

 

Soojin’s bed isn’t that far of a fall, and Shuhua is already half-asleep when her head hits the cool pillow. Her wavering conscience takes notice of Soojin turning off the lights to her room, before slipping under the blanket to cuddle with her tired form. It takes the last of Shuhua’s draining energy to throw an arm around her as they settled into the mattress. Their legs entwined from how close they’re lying together, but they didn’t mind.

 

In the comfort of the dark room, accompanied by the muted light of a streetlamp outside, and the warmth provided by Soojin’s body pressing against her own—it’s the cleanest that Shuhua has felt in a long time.

 

I'm running dry from now on.