When he thought he was safe, he wasn't. It was the story of his life. He heard Rimara's voice calling from behind. Oscar considered just walking and not looking back. It would have been easy. But he didn't. Instead he turned to find her staggering towards him. She pointed to the right of him, at how, he wasn't sure. Could she even see him? From the smell and the stumble, she was drunk, drunker than he had ever seen her. Well, maybe except for that one time... no, stay focused....
When she asked what he was "doing out so late" he could only scrunched up his brow in confusion. He wasn't a damn child. But what he was doing by her house was not something he could explain. "Rimmie," he said, forgetting himself, "I was just taking a walk. You should lie down," As she swayed, he reached out to her, to keep her steady. As he leaned in, he looked her in the eyes and found himself drowning in them. He couldn't help but smile in his own broken way. "You know there's plenty of booze at the wake. Why are you drinking alone?" The smell of whiskey hung heavy in the air but beneath it was her. He wanted to bury his face in her hair, breathe her in, but instead he held her at arm's length by the shoulders, trying to keep her from stumbling into the street.