Roxy gave me the most orange kitten ever. She's really cute and fluffy. I named her Orangina. Last night she slept on my pillow by Lil' Cal. When school starts, she's coming with me too.
[After tossing his journal from the top bunk to the floor, Dirk lays down and tosses his blankets over his head. He's just trying to regain control over his emotions. He wants to bottle everything up again, because getting upset over this? It's so stupid, and he feels bad for it.
He hears Bro, but for a good minute or two, he stays laying in his bed. He almost decides to not get up at all, but in the end he wipes his face with his pyjama sleeve and climbs down from the top bunk. He opens the bedroom door quietly and steps into the doorway, but he doesn't do anything else. He's not even sure what to say or do. Hell, he didn't even know Bro was home prior to this moment.]
[It takes Bro a few seconds to register the fact that Dirk spoke. The room is spinning and it's really hard not to fall over onto his side. When he looks up and sees Dirk standing there, it's all he can do not to fall- but he actually does fall, because he can't stop himself. He rolls over onto his back and when ends up looking at Dirk upside down.]
I... I'm s-hnnnn... I-hnnn...
[He swallows back the heaves, swallows down the bile rising in his throat. He has to speak, he can't vomit. He's pretty sure if he vomits at this angle, he'll probably die anyway.
He'd be doing them a favour.]
I'm s-sorry... [He lifts his arm shakily, beckoning Dirk to come forward. He wants to hug him. He just can't move to initiate it himself.]
[Dirk's hesitant to move, particularly because it looks like his uncle's about to retch. It takes him another solid minute make his feet move that couple metres between them.
Slowly, he sits down, parallel to Bro's upper torso, then leans over, partially on him, to rest his had on Bro's chest.]
[At first he's afraid that Dirk won't come over, and his stomach twists even more. But finally, thankfully, Dirk does and Bro feels better. When he sits down, he throws an arm over him and pulls him as close as he can.]
I'm not...acceptin' your apology, because... y'got nothin' to be sorry for...
[He sounds tired, slurred, but genuine. To be honest he can barely remember what he was even mad at Dirk about in the first place. Well, he can. But it seems so fucking inconsequential now.]
[He's all but clinging to Bro, and it's not until he realises the patch of shirt against his face is soaked that he realises that he's crying again. He knows he does it entirely too much but he can't always get it to stop, like right now.]
[If he notices, he really doesn't care. If he wasn't so drunk, if the full weight in its entirety of just how fucked up things were could actually hit him, he would be crying too. But instead it's just sitting in his stomach, making him feel a little nauseous. He's too drunk to really, properly be depressed. But that doesn't make him any less sorry.
But he lets out a sigh, and brings his hand up to rub at Dirk's hair.]
Can we just...be cool again, Dirk? Y'know... brodates, and tacos, and... Y'know, that kinda thing? I don't like fightin'. I don't like hurtin' your feelings... I just wanna go back to normal. Okay? Can that... be a thing again?
[Dirk's eyes flicker open for a moment when he feels Bro's hand in his hair. He glances upward, but it's only brief. It's more comfortable to just keep laying his head against his chest.]
Yeah. I want that. I want to do fun stuff with you and not make us mad at each other.
[Though by this point, Dirk's just too exhausted to feel any of the frustration he had earlier. He's still sad, he's still crying, but it's just that. He feels considerably better.
Honestly? This entire thing would've gone down better if he still wasn't coming down from the negative side effects from a weeklong party.]
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no subject
He hears Bro, but for a good minute or two, he stays laying in his bed. He almost decides to not get up at all, but in the end he wipes his face with his pyjama sleeve and climbs down from the top bunk. He opens the bedroom door quietly and steps into the doorway, but he doesn't do anything else. He's not even sure what to say or do. Hell, he didn't even know Bro was home prior to this moment.]
Yeah.
no subject
I... I'm s-hnnnn... I-hnnn...
[He swallows back the heaves, swallows down the bile rising in his throat. He has to speak, he can't vomit. He's pretty sure if he vomits at this angle, he'll probably die anyway.
He'd be doing them a favour.]
I'm s-sorry... [He lifts his arm shakily, beckoning Dirk to come forward. He wants to hug him. He just can't move to initiate it himself.]
no subject
Slowly, he sits down, parallel to Bro's upper torso, then leans over, partially on him, to rest his had on Bro's chest.]
Me too.
no subject
I'm not...acceptin' your apology, because... y'got nothin' to be sorry for...
[He sounds tired, slurred, but genuine. To be honest he can barely remember what he was even mad at Dirk about in the first place. Well, he can. But it seems so fucking inconsequential now.]
no subject
I still am anyway.
no subject
But he lets out a sigh, and brings his hand up to rub at Dirk's hair.]
Can we just...be cool again, Dirk? Y'know... brodates, and tacos, and... Y'know, that kinda thing? I don't like fightin'. I don't like hurtin' your feelings... I just wanna go back to normal. Okay? Can that... be a thing again?
no subject
Yeah. I want that. I want to do fun stuff with you and not make us mad at each other.
[Though by this point, Dirk's just too exhausted to feel any of the frustration he had earlier. He's still sad, he's still crying, but it's just that. He feels considerably better.
Honestly? This entire thing would've gone down better if he still wasn't coming down from the negative side effects from a weeklong party.]