[It's also merely Tuesday, and that may be an aspect of what made this week a perfect storm, although even he can't justify getting this wasted over the mere irony of it. The card, at least, perfectly expresses his inability to find the right thing to say.
I'm sorry about how things work out hadn't seemed very romantic.
Coughing, it suddenly seems like she might have done better to bring a bucket over a beaker, but he manages to reach out for that. Considers mentioning that he's not thirsty but he could really use a drink.]
Did you eat anyone's heart?
[He's worried over it for three days now. Coincidences here stack up like bad luck in triplicate.
But he drinks, and yelps, distracting himself with the bump of the glass spilling fresh blood from the corner of his mouth.]
hold my hand, ooh baby it's a long way down to the bottom of the river
I'm sorry about how things work out hadn't seemed very romantic.
Coughing, it suddenly seems like she might have done better to bring a bucket over a beaker, but he manages to reach out for that. Considers mentioning that he's not thirsty but he could really use a drink.]
Did you eat anyone's heart?
[He's worried over it for three days now. Coincidences here stack up like bad luck in triplicate.
But he drinks, and yelps, distracting himself with the bump of the glass spilling fresh blood from the corner of his mouth.]