Eventually, Sage’s roommates come to pick her up.

They offer to take Aloe into their apartment, but in the end, he just waves them off. A stupid decision, really, but right now, he feels a bit too sick to join them in their car ride.

But important things must be said twice. This is a stupid decision.

So instead of a nice, soft couch, Aloe is crouched down in some alleyway, retching, but unable to empty out the contents of his stomach.

Despite the alcohol giving him a spike in excitement earlier on, he quickly nosedives into a depressing state. He feels awfully pathetic, even more so than when he was sober. 

Distant booms of thunder and heavy clouds covering the night sky signals oncoming rain. And because of this dreadful weather, the winds are especially cold.

Aloe shivers.

Great. Just great.

Not only is he feeling the consequences of disregarding his dietary issues, he now faces the very real possibility of passing out in some cold alleyway. Surely, his poor dogs must be worried sick for him at home.

I really should have thought this through.

He begins to sob again.  The noises he makes are awfully pathetic, and he feels grossed out by his own snot that drips down his nose. In such a terrible situation, his only saving grace is that no passersby seem to notice him hunched over and crying in his little corner of the alleyway.

But because his luck has been so shit lately, he hears footsteps make their way to him.

It stops just beside him, and Aloe has to wonder if this is his final, pathetic moment before he gets killed in a mugging. Quite honestly, with the things that have been going on, he wouldn’t mind just getting murdered right now.

But instead of cold steel piercing skin, a warm hand touches his back and begins to make circular motions to try and soothe him. When he glances at the stranger, his brown eyes meet golden ones.

“Are you okay?”

Am I okay?

The question is simple, and likely not intended to be taken so seriously. But it touches on something in his heart that just makes him cry even harder.

Shaking his head, he furiously wipes at his eyes with his sleeves. But because of the material of his jacket, it only serves to irritate the surrounding skin of his eyes, causing him to groan in frustration.

Another hand pulls both of his wrists away from his face. 

“Don’t do that. Look, it’s gotten all red,” The stranger uses a thumb to caress the sore skin beneath his eye. 

The action irritates the skin a bit, but something about the tender gesture makes it difficult for Aloe to care. When the man takes his hand away, Aloe groans with the loss of heat from the contact.

He hears the rustling of fabric, and not before long, the man raises a handkerchief to his nose. “Blow.”

Surprisingly, Aloe does as he’s told. And even though his snot drips from the handkerchief, the man just puts the fabric to the side and remains rooted next to Aloe.