Connor watched as Hank drank another a beer. Figuring out his emotions and dealing with them had been a constant struggle for Connor since he deviated. He felt as if there was a constant weight in his chest, though everything came back as normal, he couldn’t get rid of the pressure. Sometimes it eased, when Hank gave him a smile, when he gave Connor a hug. If Connor closed his eyes and reconstructed the hug he could feel that weight start to lighten in his chest.
“Hank, I really don’t think you should drink so much.” It was his third beer of the night and Connor had a feeling it wouldn’t be Hank’s last.
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