#40s theme

The hangover wasn’t worth it. Everything hurt- the light was too sensitive, & his stomach was ready to hurl if he ate anything at this rate. Enzio opened his tired eyes with a groan, rolling over into a fetal position. He wasn’t used to getting drunk- what the hell was he thinking?? The young mobster had slowly sat up & wobbly stood, gazing around. “...oyce-?” He had to clear his throat, using the butt of his palm to rub at his crusted eyes. Sniffing once Enzio had laced his shoes up slowly, heading on out after fixing his shirt, & finger combing his hair.

It seemed many had left during the morning, being near lunch time he realized after seeing a clock he’d passed by in the hallway. He had searched around & raised a hand in greeting to both his aunt & cousins in the living room, heading for the door. He needed to find Royce, & make sure he was okay. It seemed Frankie was out- only one car remained, aside his own, & it belonged to his aunt Alexis. Snatching his jacket, he slipped it on & just...stood on the front porch breathing in the sharp cold air, steadily waking up. God, he’d never get that drunk again. Enzio revved the car up & had let it warm some before pulling out, nearly forgetting to buckle in. That was the last thing he needed. He had slowly pulled up to his own house first, searching the dashboard & pockets on his being for a pen.

Finally grabbing a blue inked one, he squinted & began to write on his wrist, hoping Royce was awake to read & respond.

~Hey, are you home? Can I stop by...? I’m sorry I passed out.~

Enzio stared at his Uncle, dumbfounded.

“What?”

“You heard me, invite them over.” The older man spoke up, having a slight rasp in his voice due to years of smoking. He glanced over to his nephew, waggling a thick finger at him, his green eyes squinting. “I know you’ve been writtin’ on an’ off to ya Otha’. It’s tha’ holidays, tha’ least ya can do is invite them ova’ for a nice, hot meal, an’ good company. Ya Aunt an’ I would love ta meet tha’ person that’s put ya in seventh heaven of late.”

This converation took place nearly 3 hours ago, & still the monster stared at his bare forearm unsure what to even begin saying. How could he possibly bring himself to tell the other...? He’d have to tell him to keep hush about his job. He could whip up a lie like the crack of a whip.

He stalled with pen in hand, before finally doodling a small heart on the meaty back of his thumb area, drawing a little arrow through it.

~♥️ Royce. Ya wanna come over for dinner with my family?~

Enzio sat back with regret on his features, fearing the worst tonight.

@detroyceyoung

Enzio raced home from school; he had enough of middle school & the shenanigans the 8th graders gave to his class. Just because they were lower in a grade didn’t mean nothing- but apparently they thought so. He slowed down, attempting to sneak in the backdoor without making much of a noise. If he was lucky, his ma would be drunk by now, passed out either in her bed or on the living room couch. He peeked in the messy kitchen a moment & held his breath waiting to hear any noise. Was she out for the evening...?

The door slightly creaked upon him entering the messy house. Dishes were piled in the sink. The air smelt of stale cigarette smoke & mustiness. He tiptoed towards the stairs, making sure he peeked in the living room. He sighed in relief having seen his mother passed out on the sofa, curlers still in her brown hair, dressed in slippers & her house robe. Making quick due to get into his room, Enzio tossed his book bag to the floor & locked his door, plopping on his broken bed. He dug around in his pocket retrieving the pen he stole from his teacher’s desk that day- it wasn’t like she was gonna miss it, right? He yanked the cap off & tossed it aside, checking his arms curiously. With terribly handwriting, he started to write.

‘Hey are you home yet? The witch is asleep!’