Click was not a daring man - he never had been. Making fast decisions, considering options as they came to him and making his intentions clear were things that he had particular weaknesses with. Being impulsive was also a certain talent that he did not have. It was the same with the concept of logic or an organised mind; they just didn't quite work with him as they should. These obvious faults, which he lamented over often, were ones that were fairly clear when sober. When Click was drunk, everything became much worse. Intelligence itself moved swiftly out of the window.
All of this came to mind moments after he had left his flat, carrying all four of the bottles of whiskey that he currently owned and heading down to Emily's flat. Something had come out wrong in his drunken stupor, and no amount of stumbling and either accidentally or intentionally walking into walls made no difference at all to him; he had to help correct his screw up.
Unfortunately, knocking on her door yielded no results. Puzzled, he knocked again, and nothing happened. The answer was alcohol, so he immediately indulged in the first bottle available to him. He was so drunk now that the burn of forty percent proof was oddly soothing.
The next time he banged on her door, there was a response. "Go away," Emily shouted out at him.
"I brought burnies!" Click shouted back, entirely ignoring her words. "I've brought Jack, Jim and Johnny to make you feel better. I just want to-"
"Go away and sober up. If you keep pestering me I am never going to talk to you again. I don't want to drink anymore."
This seemed outright strange to Click. It was rare for Emily not to drink, and even more so for her to drink without drinking to a pleasant state of intoxication. There was quite a lot on offer now, and for free, and she wasn't actually taking it. "Can I maybe just say sorry for making you angry with me?" he offered, trying to at least get her face in front of his.
There was a pause while he left Emily to consider the option.
The question that he was asked was not quite what he was waiting to hear. "You know why I'm angry at you then?"
Being drunk did not help his reasoning skills. "Was it the goose?"
Finally, the door opened, and Click was given just enough time to witness Emily in her bra before she slapped him across his face and slammed the door to follow.
Click spent a moment reeling and wondering quite what had just happened. Fortunately, after that moment had ended, the door opened again, and he was gifted with another wonderful view in exchange for the bottle that happened to be closest to her. The door slammed shut again; Click's arms a little lighter.
"Now go away," she yelled through the wood.
"Where's my bottle? You did thieving from me. You earn more than me; that's just mean," replied Click without thinking. "I came here with the sweetest and kindest of intentions, and you just decided to take things from me without me even-"
Gracious enough to open the door, Emily gave Click another chance to look into her glaring eyes. Unfortunately, his own pupils instantly sought out the lacy bra again. This cost him another bottle of his precious liquids, and the door was closed on him again before he could draw his attention upwards.
"You shouldn't be looking at me like that," she told him. It sounded as though Emily had her back to the door now, and she didn't seem all that intent on leaving. Now was a good time for conversation. "You're supposed to be safe and easy," she continued. "All I have to do when I'm with you is whatever I want. I wanted to be an actress, you know? I'm good at playing roles and inventing clever characters, but I'm not so good at being me. You're supposed to like me for me, not for the look. I don't want you to look."
"Why do you keep showing me all of this stuff then?" Click asked quietly, leaning against the door so that the sound would still carry.
"I don't show you."
"You left my flat and ran down the corridor completely naked," he pointed out.
"You looked unhappy; I was just trying to cheer you up."
"You left clothes and underwear outside of my shower for another girl to find," he added.
"Same thing. You looked unhappy; I was trying to cheer you up."
"So why are you in just your bra now?" asked Click, determined to pin this girl down.
"I was hot."
"Well, maybe I was just looking for some way to make sure I definitely would not open this door to you. If I had these things hanging out I don't exactly want to go showing them off, do I?"
"But you do that for a living," Click countered. "You spend more days than not showing off your body to people and usually you're wearing a lot less than you are now. Christ, Em, I've seen you completely naked before now."
"That's different." Emily paused, gathering breath, strength or both. "It's not really me when that happens. It's like me, but it makes more money and does much more exciting things. I don't really do anything."
The turn of the conversation made Click suspect quite strongly that Emily had started drinking from his bottles. Personally, he found that the topic was rather sobering. He spent a few moments waiting, gathering his thoughts and trying to clear his head enough that his eyes could see a little more clearly. It didn't help in the slightest, and neither did shaking his head from side to side. Feeling sick was not as cleansing as it had the potential to be either.
A question sprang to the front of his mind, lodging itself there and refusing to move even slightly out of the picture. "When's the last time you actually had sex because you wanted to?" he said.
Alcohol helped everything emerge when he didn't really want it to.
Her first reaction was defensive. "Well, when's the last time you did?"
Images of his last sexual encounter, both the highlights and the low points, flashed through his head. The low points ranged from a collection of accidental head butting to rolling off and out of both the bed and the girl. The highlights were mostly based on his record stamina of roughly fourteen minutes. This had been his masterpiece experience. Still, he couldn't imagine doing something like that without having originally intended to.
"It was about a year ago," he admitted. The idea was now refusing to dislodge from his mind and, though it was nothing that he had wanted to think about, there was nothing that he could really do about it now. "I know that probably seems like a much longer time for somebody like you and all. I mean, you could get it whenever you wanted, easy as anything. I get it you don't want to answer the question by-"
"Never. I don't think I've ever really wanted to do it."
"Want me to keep drinking?"
"Want to give me my goose back?"
Silence ruled the conversation again, stopping them from wandering too deeply into the topics that had been so uncomfortably been raised tonight. Slowly, the door began to open. This time, Click made sure that his eyes would be level with hers, but all that he saw of her as she slipped farther into her home was an image of her retreating back. The door was open though, so, taking this as an invitation, Click slipped in behind her and closed the door.
Unsure as to whether his presence would be entirely welcome, he decided that shouting again would be a good option to take. "You know, I don't think I've ever been in here," he began, searching randomly for a conversation topic.
Emily most definitely had the good flat in the building. Far from his own three roomed dumping ground, she had managed to secure herself an entryway and everything. One of his alcohol bottles was sitting on a little table there. He left the last one in his possession with it. Keeping clear and focussed could potentially prove very important in the coming moments.
The rich colours of her walls were a stark contrast to his own. Deep reds and purples seemed to be her preferred choices. She even had a window, which was frankly amazing, though it was covered by closed red curtains right now. Only one of the three doors that led off this little room was open. It led into almost complete darkness, but he heard Emily's voice inviting him to come in. It was not her sultry voice. Though he had never had that directed at himself, he had certainly heard her use it on Dim more than enough times.
This thought made him pause where he was. She had always been more intimate, more confident and much more affectionate around Dim than she had ever been with him. With Click, Emily had somebody around which she just acted like a friend and nothing more. Nobody else in the world had that connection with her. Nobody else in the world even had that option.
Like a ton of bricks he was hit by the sudden knowledge that he was the only person in the entire world who knew her as Emily. Harmony knew clients and potential clients. That was plenty of people, precious few of which ever came close, and even if they did, Harmony was not deep enough to warrant it. Emily was the treasure here. Emily was the beauty, the charisma, the understanding after a hard day. Emily could be his light at the end of the tunnel, but one thing that she couldn't be was a quick, drunken one night stand. The darkened room that he had stopped outside would be her bedroom. She was trying to defend herself in the only way that she knew how.
"Josh?" she called out pensively, like a hard reaching for him beneath the covers at midnight. "Where are you? Don't you want to come inside?"
The choice was laid out before him. He could either offer her comfort and intimacy at a time when she needed it, and never have a chance of being anything other than desperate comfort, or he could be patient and hope that there might be a future in store for them.
There were a lot of uncertain things in Click's future.