The suns were starting to rise, but Khama didn't notice. The shades were thrown open, but the gradually increasing light didn't register, even to her sensitive eyes. Edd, hand still clutching a glass half full of strong but awful whisky, tilted slightly to the left. The chair beneath him stood on two legs, dangerously close to toppling and sending the wiry man to the cold, dirty floor. Khama's lopsided grin remained on her face as her stormy grey-green eyes watched him, making mental bets with herself as to when he'd fall. She'd have said something to him, challenged him to remain upright long enough, but her mouth and brain were no longer connected. Tiller empty, she just stared, realizing that the pimply, rat-faced neighbour was likely her closest friend. Her stomach turned.
Slowly, so damn slowly, she raised her own glass, the brown liquid sloshing in it as she jerked, realizing she wasn't moving fast enough for her own tastes. She nearly smashed the glass into her teeth, such was the force of the vacuum of her desire to drink. Instead, though, she just threw the liquor all over her lips and into her nose. She coughed and sputtered, exhaling forcefully through her nose to eradicate the burning liquid from her sinus cavities. Tears fell from her eyes, though she was not crying. Instead, she was angry she'd wasted the liquor, and she slammed the glass back down on the table. This startled Edd, who jumped and fell from his seat into the desk, groaning as his full weight crashed into the creaky wooden furniture. He gasped and fell to the dirt, rolling around holding his ribs. Looking down, Khama temporarily forget her own misfortune and began to laugh at Eddore's.
She laughed so hard her stomach turned again, and this time, she couldn't keep it in. She'd had smoked fish for dinner, the cheapest cut and full of soft bones that were uncomfortable but edible. She'd washed it down with a beer, spectacularly strong for the price, and it was heavy and foamy to boot. Going down, it was a rather pleasant meal for the gutterqueen. But coming back up, it was bilious and harsh, burning her throat as the remnants of the meal and the large quantity of whisky rushed back up and out, splattering the agonizing carpenter with a foul-smelling colloidal mixture of fish-flesh and alcohol. She fell to her knees, so powerful was the retch, and Edd merely groaned, too drunk to formulate words that likely would have been, 'Ye fuckin' bitch!' Instead, it was 'Oh, oooooh, mmmfff.' She took the meaning.
Collapsing on the floor next to him, the retching having weakened her significantly, she laid on her back and stared up at the dull grey of the ceiling. She knew there was a spot, slightly lighter than the rest, and she tried to focus on it. She couldn't though, as she couldn't get her eyes to do much more than spin rapidly around her. The drunk and in pain Eddore turned slightly, adding his own vomit to the mix on the floor as the smell and realizing he was covered in decaying food and drink hit him, which in turn made Khama retch and vomit again. This time, some came out her nose, and the two of them spent more than a few bits in a cyclical vortex of retching and gasping for breath. After about ten bits, though, Khama'd had enough. She clawed to her stomach and dragged herself over Edd, smearing vomit and tears all over her shirt as she dragged herself into the bug-ridden bed that was still saturated with water. Immediately, the cold liquid infiltrated her crevices, and she shivered. Moaning, she muttered something to Edd, who raised his head a fraction of a centimeter before it fell back down into the dirt. She said it again, this time more forcefully, and the man understood the groans and grunts were actually an invitation. It wasn't sexual, but Khama was cold and his meager frame might offer a degree or two of warmth. Edd pulled himself next to her, and tried to remove his vomit-stained shirt, but only succeeded in pulling over his face. He retched again, vomiting into the pocket he'd created with his shirt. By the time he extricated himself, it was in his hair.
Khama wanted to laugh again, but she'd lost control of her body. She shivered violently against Edd, whose pungent breath wafted over her and nearly made her add to the vomit now seemingly filling her tiny house. She kept it down though, instead turning her back to him and dragging his arm over her torso. His small hand grasped her breast, but she swatted it weakly, instead repositioning it on her stomach. He snuggled in closer, his manhood stiff against her, but he made no further attempts to seduce her. He honestly probably realized he couldn't lift his head to follow through, even had the fiery redhead finally agreed. Instead, he started snoring immediately, more loudly than Khama thought mortally possible. It was as if he was tearing small portals constantly as he slept. The thought brought a smile to her face, trills before she joined him in tearing tiny portals in the dream world in the forms of snores.