“ you’re getting drunk on watered down vodka like a fourteen year old girl. ”
` accepting starters from here .
It was honestly surprising to most people how much of an actual lightweight Zack was, especially considering how frequent he drank and how much he drank when he did so, and Zack was not always a happy drunk. In fact he could be quite emotional when heavily intoxicated and that much was evident right now as he's curled up on his couch, clutching the empty bottle in one arm while his other arm stretches forward in its attempt to reach out for nothing really in particular. probably anything, he just wanted to hold onto anything. It was the after effect of the liquor. Incoherent whines fall from his lips accompanied by the occasional sniffles. He was crying over absolutely nothing.
Irene would have been the last person a sober Zack would have expected standing here in his living room, arms folded over themselves as she peers at him with the same look of amused judgement she often wore when she was around him, and it was funny how even now, despite him being the one to request her presence in his drunken haze, he still can’t seem to be nice to her. That’s just how they were. Irene was one of few people who not only dealt with Zacks bullshit, but spit it right back at him tenfold and it was so irritatingly pleasant to be around someone who, to put it quite frankly, was actually just like him. He would never admit the positive side to that statement though.
His eyes are hooded, hardly open but not quite closed and its hard to make out her face while his vision keeps blurring in and out of focus. It apparently was also hard to make out a coherent comeback, because everything that left his lips in this instant sounded like it came from the mouth of a fourth grader. “Oh yeah? well, I am a fourteen year old girl and you are a big... dumb loser pants that makes you like twelve so technically I win because loser pants are twelve years old and I’m fourteen. I’m also better than you so that ages me up like two years so you’re just a tiny loser baby compared to me.”
Though his speech was a bit slurred and hard to understand paired with the way he released every word like a crying child, if there was one thing that didn’t change while he was drunk, it was how much he talked.
