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Jul. 31st, 2017 10:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bloodyanimalSpike was drunk.
Sloshed. Just bloody hammered. It wasn't even particularly late. In fact, he'd started before the sun had gone down, huddled in the darkness of his tomb awaiting the night with a bottle in hand.
There wasn't any reason for it. Not one that he was willing to admit. It wasn't his son's birthday, or his wife's, or their anniversary, though that was fast approaching. There wasn't any real excuse for this weight of melancholia, but he'd never been one to overanalyze his moods.
Despite his inebriation, he'd still managed to take out a slim demon in the sewers, and a vampire behind a fast food taco restaurant downtown. Leaning against the pole of a corner streetlamp, Spike finished off a cigarette, his eyes drifting shut.
Something needed to give, he knew. He couldn't live like this anymore, weeping and feeling sorry for himself. It was coming up on a year since his family had vanished, and he knew Andrea wouldn't want him moaning and suffering for so long.
"You pathetic bastard," he muttered to himself, but at the sound of commotion in a nearby alley, glass breaking and something heavy hitting the pavement, he froze. When his eyes snapped open, they were no longer blue, but an eerie yellow.
Dropping his cigarette butt onto the pavement, he stalked closer to the darkened mouth of the alley, reaching under his coat for the machete hidden there.
Sloshed. Just bloody hammered. It wasn't even particularly late. In fact, he'd started before the sun had gone down, huddled in the darkness of his tomb awaiting the night with a bottle in hand.
There wasn't any reason for it. Not one that he was willing to admit. It wasn't his son's birthday, or his wife's, or their anniversary, though that was fast approaching. There wasn't any real excuse for this weight of melancholia, but he'd never been one to overanalyze his moods.
Despite his inebriation, he'd still managed to take out a slim demon in the sewers, and a vampire behind a fast food taco restaurant downtown. Leaning against the pole of a corner streetlamp, Spike finished off a cigarette, his eyes drifting shut.
Something needed to give, he knew. He couldn't live like this anymore, weeping and feeling sorry for himself. It was coming up on a year since his family had vanished, and he knew Andrea wouldn't want him moaning and suffering for so long.
"You pathetic bastard," he muttered to himself, but at the sound of commotion in a nearby alley, glass breaking and something heavy hitting the pavement, he froze. When his eyes snapped open, they were no longer blue, but an eerie yellow.
Dropping his cigarette butt onto the pavement, he stalked closer to the darkened mouth of the alley, reaching under his coat for the machete hidden there.
