Alcohol affects people differently. Some become chatty to the point of annoyance, while others become free, embarrassed by nothing. They gyrate on dance floors or promenade down streets during Mardi Gras sans tops and bras, oblivious to any looks they’re receiving. In their fogged state nothing matters, but Luce’s words lifted the impervious shroud cloaking Addison. Dropping her chin to her chest, she said, “Don’t ever apologize fo’ sumthin’ deserved.”

Luce had expected more. Something cutting and deep, befitting Addison’s normal holier-than-thou attitude, so her admission of error in a tone quiet and penitent, was as sobering as it was enlightening. Under all the bravado was a woman, and she was hurting. Luce took a step in Addison’s direction. “Do you want me to leave?” she said quietly.

“Depends,” Addison said, lifting her head.

“On what?”

“On whether or not yo’ done inflicting bodily harm.”

The faintest of grins appeared on Luce’s face as she stared back at Addison. “Promise me you’ll never call me that again?” she said softly.

“You’ve my word.”

“You’re drunk. Who’s to say you’ll remember this tomorrow?”

It was Addison’s turn to display a grin, albeit an incredibly lopsided one. “You’re too annoying to lemme forget.”

Luce smiled in return, but it quickly disappeared when she saw Addison begin to sway. “I think you need to go lie down,” Luce said, taking a step in Addison’s direction. “Sleep it off.”

“Not tired.”

“Addison—”

“I said I’m no’ tired!”

Dismissing Luce with a mighty wave of her arm, Addison turned to walk away, and the combination of her movements sent her lurching across the room. Misjudging the distance to the sofa, when she grabbed out to steady herself, Addison fell flat on her face.

“Shit!” Luce said, quickly kneeling by Addison’s side. “Are you all right?”

“Who moved the fuckin’ sofa?”

“That would be the demon alcohol, I’m thinking,” Luce said as she helped Addison roll over, but when she saw the blood streaming from Addison’s nose, any hilarity Luce had found in the situation immediately disappeared. “Fuck! I think you may have just broken your nose.”

“Bollocks,” Addison said, and bringing her hand to her face, she found her cheeks and her chin before finally finding her nose. Flinching, she pulled her fingers away and scowled. “Zat blood?”

“Well, it sure as hell isn’t Cabernet,” Luce said as she got Addison to her feet. Holding onto the woman to steady her, Luce said, “You think you can make it to the bedroom?”

A lopsided leer appeared on Addison’s face. “Sure...whatcha have in mind?”

***