Nathan Cohan (notcoping) wrote in undeadsiegeic, @ 2014-12-17 21:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | lydia, nate |
WHO: Nate and Lydia
WHERE: The hotel
WHEN: December 17th, 2014; early morning
WHAT: A late night of bender leads to a grumpy run-in the next morning
The holidays brought around an old Cohan family tradition - one that wasn’t even ignored while trapped on this god forsaken island - drinking. Looking back at every single Christmas season from the time he could remember until the time they had moved away from his father, one thing was always the same. Whiskey was just as prevalent around the house as eggnog had been. Everyone said holidays were about traditions, right? So Nate was simply getting into the spirit, or that was the lie he was telling himself. Spending the better part of the night in the bar getting lost in a bottle of whiskey was becoming a habit, not just a tradition. Back home Nate had managed to keep his demons under control, or at least locked up well enough that he functioned on the job without much issue. But as each day passed on the island, his hold on that lock was slipping and he was spending more and more nights staring at the bottom of a whiskey bottle and leaving his little girl with people he barely knew. Those same people rarely asked questions though when he would shuffle back in the morning to pick her up. Nate was good at acting like his head wasn’t pounding and he wasn’t wishing he was dead, one could even call it a talent. Years and years of drinking had long ago taught him how to function at less than one hundred percent. Even with his years of experience hiding his issues, still there were a few people he knew saw right through him. Those same people were the ones he hoped not to run into on mornings like this. Despite his best efforts, Nate wasn’t hiding things well this morning. The sunglasses perched on his face was the tell tale sign that the sun was too bright and if some poor soul did stop to attempt a conversation his clipped tone was another sign that he wasn’t his usual social self. Most would just chalk it up to a late night and the stress of their shared situation, and he let them. It was easier that way, what people didn’t know couldn’t hurt them, right? Even Nate knew that was a shitty thought process, but currently he couldn’t find enough energy to care about that. His only concern was to gather Louisa from their neighbor’s place and spend the morning sleeping of the last remain effects of his night before. So with his head ducked down, sunglasses firmly perched on his nose and his hands shoved into his pockets Nate hoped he wouldn’t bump into anyone on the final stretch from the bar to his place. |