"I don't lie around all day," she informed him, feigning mock offense. "I still do my job. After all, I need to make money for more booze, duh," she teased, as though it was the most logical thing in the world. And though she opened her mouth to protest when he stole her cigarette, she refrained, letting him have his moment before taking it back, listening in semi horror to his story. Though she was more than sure he wasn't looking for sympathy, merely explaining why he hated the holiday. It was a fucking valid reason, in her opinion.
"Christmases must be all about dead parents then," she mused, taking another puff. "My da got sick this time of year, died soon after. Then my mum kicked me out. Only reason I was still living there was him in the first place. Did you know trying to figure your shite out at sixteen and homeless isn't all its cracked up to be?" She asked with a small shrug. "Plenty out there waiting to take advantage..." Except she couldn't continue on with that line, not right now.
"My hero," she joked, happy that at least someone else understood her misery, even if it was an unhealthy way to deal with it "I was hoping I wouldn't have to drink alone again."