Round 2

A few minutes, and another glass later, Ethan feels pretty good. Really good.

Laughing, Layla starts pouring herself another drink. “You know for somebody who doesn't drink you’re keeping up pretty well.”

Downing the rest of his glass, cheeks burning, Ethan holds out his glass. “I drink.”

“Please,” Layla snickers, leaning over to pour, the angle putting her deep cleavage on display. “You can’t fool me.”

Eyes on her chest, Ethan’s mouth moves on its own. “I’m doing great.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Pft, If I’m drunk why did you just say I was keeping up?”

“Because,” Layla finished pouring, a proud smile on her face. “I’m drunk too.”

Ethan snorts slightly, fighting back a laugh, but once Layla cracks up and giggles it comes out any ways. They laugh together for a long few moments, before calming down and sipping their drinks.

“So, do you get drunk with all the newly relocated neighbors?” Ethan asks, swirling his drink before taking another sip.

“Hmmm,” Layla considers the question shifting back on the couch. “Just the cute ones.”

Ethan nearly chokes, spitting some of the wine back into the glass.

Giggling Layla, sips from her own cup, nearly draining it. “Top you up?” She offers, reaching for the bottle, enough left to fill both cups once more.

“Uh- yeah…” Ethan holds out his glass again, accepting the top off.

Filling both glasses, Layla sets the empty bottle aside, then takes a very small sip. “So…” she shifts, edging closer on the couch. “I was a little surprised to hear you moved here by yourself.”

“Ah?” Ethan shifts, the smaller distance between them making him stir.

“Mhm. Uprooting your life and all… Must have been hard leaving all that behind.”

Ethan sipped his drink, mostly to stall for time before answering. “I didn't leave much.”

“No job?”

Ethan shook his head. That was already thoroughly destroyed.

“Family?”

Ethan shook his head again. His parents were truthfully closer to Green Valley than where he was before.

“Someone special?”

Ethan started to shake his head but hesitated. “There… was somebody…”

“Was?” Layla tilts her head, her eyes catching in the light.

{if Heather =false}“It’s over now, we, uh…” Ethan takes a gulp from his drink, trying to find the words. “It’s over.”{endif}{if Heather =True}“It’s complicated, but uh…” Ethan takes a gulp from his drink, trying to find the words. “We’re not… Not together anymore.”{endif}{if Heather Affection =40} Ethan considers the last few days. All the texts back and forth. “We’re still talking, but… it’s been hard.”{endif}

“I see…” Layla takes another sip, keeping her eyes on Ethan. “She broke your heart.”

Ethan twitches slightly. “Sh-She, uh, did.” He looks down into his glass. Red. An impossible red.

“Hm…” Layla sighs. “I’m sorry to hear that, Ethan.” She purses her lips together. “You deserve better.”

Ethan shrugs. Unable to really agree or not.

“Would you excuse me for a moment?” She sets her glass down, leaning up to get off the couch. “They say wine goes to your head, but it always seems to find my bladder.”

Giggling, she rises to her feet, her laugh a contrast to Ethan’s newly sullen mood. He watches her pad across the floor to the washroom, turning the corner and disappearing from sight.

Shifting, Ethan suddenly feels very, very lonely.

The house is quiet, too quiet.

A sound cuts the silence, catching Ethan’s ear. A loud crashing stream of water that doesn't sound like, well, what it should. What’s Layla doing?

Ethan pulls himself up off the couch, following the sound, he reaches the corner and rounds it, his heart skipping a beat.

{if Gay =1}Across the hall the bathroom door is ajar, and standing just on the other side is Layla relieving herself. Standing, because she’s using her cock to take a piss. Ethan swallows hard. Despite fully believing his eyes before, this only helped cement it: Layla wasn't as she seemed. Twisting around the corner, Ethan feels his already red face grow hotter.{endif}

{if Gay <1}Across the hall the bathroom door is ajar, and standing just on the other side is Layla relieving herself. Standing. Ethan can’t see much, the angle far from perfect, but he can hear the steady stream coming out from what can only be a… Gasping, Ethan twists back around the corner, his flush face turning a rich crimson.

Layla has a cock.{endif}

The stream stops, and a few seconds later the toilet flushes. ‘Fuck,’ Ethan thinks, staggering his way back to the couch.