#ft. hermit

benji was supposed to be dd, so romy wasn't sure why, even now, he finds himself alarmingly sober. he thinks of the few drinks he'd grabbed from the cooler, left forgotten on the beach through the party as the same distraction returned over and over: amelia sofia castro. he had to be in the hospital at an ungodly hour on monday, and maybe that should've been reason enough to abstain, but instead it was amelia taking over his mind. amelia who'd long forgotten him, amelia whose multitudes he still needed a clear head to make sense of. he decides to down the rest of whatever the hell was in benji's solo cup, hunt him and some more drinks down. step one completed. step two, would have been completed if not for the presence of one kiri lane, treading back to the house. he should just let her go in peacefully, he'd bothered her enough for one night, but misery loves company. stretched across the house's front steps, splinters digging into his elbows, he looks up at her. kiri has always loomed large, being down here made no difference "game's over, if you changed your mind." stupid fucking game. and of course, they'd been the one to call the rest of them out for what they were. leaning to the side just slightly as their converse comes down on the creaky old step, he pulls at a filthy shoelace, watching it come undone "oh no."

frustrating as it was at the time, tristan had the right idea with drinking her sorrows away. it was something he'd never tried— not purposely, at least. alcohol was to be fun, to have a good time. the second it isn't, you're just pathetic. yet here he is, returning the favor. sort of. he didn't think tris would even be home. but, he remembered kiri saying something about their mother and a workshop. he doesn't know why it's all his intoxicated mind can think of, but he'd stopped sketching dante, set down the red pen, and left. the walk from his place had slightly sobered him up, but he still almost falls through the front door as it swings open, not having expected it to actually be unlocked. instead, all that happens is he drops the notepad he had clutched to his chest the whole way over, and he retrieves that with little struggle. he knocks a polite little tune on kiri's door, holds the notepad up when it's opened "it's mostly school notes. y'wanna see?"

maybe it was the notion of being replaced gnawing at him, but romy made a point of making time to see tris. now, he might've been using her house as a temporary haven, avoiding the task of driving all the way home. tris didn't seem to mind. romy almost forgot about the roommate situation, but remembers just in time to sloppily pull sweatpants on before heading to get water. he pauses in the entryway to the kitchen, eyes narrowing at the sight of kiri, illuminated in the dark room by a fridge light, slice of cheese halfway to their mouth "gross." romy snorts, slipping past them to retrieve the pitcher of water "anyone cook in this house?"