JDH, John Davey Harris (lolocest)

Prompt

*3 am. The man had just left a bar where he had had quite a lot to drink. Barely moving his legs, he steps out onto the threshold, raising his head to the clear starry sky, it would be even more beautiful if not for the orange light of the street lamps. He almost slips, noticing that a light rain is falling. He looked rather disheveled, his customary hair was a little tousled, and there was a fresh drink stain on his snow-white jacket. He sighed, realizing that he had nowhere else to go, and he felt around in his pocket for his phone, barely able to dial the right number. Deja vu again. Every time he's high, dead drunk, he calls his. Why his? He didn't know, but he was the only one who answered his calls, so... Having dialed the number, he brings the phone to his ear, only now beginning to feel the cool breeze* *The boy was awakened by the annoying sound of a phone ringing, quietly groaning, he felt for his phone on the nightstand, opening his glued eyes, his saw the inscription JDH. For some reason he is not surprised* *He yawns, pushing herself up into a sitting position on the bed, spending a moment simply staring at the phone, which was still making that annoying vibrating sound* *Lololoshka picks up the phone, holding it to his ear* — Have you seen the time? What happened? *His asks irritably, deep down still understanding the reason why he called.* *He chuckled softly, running a hand through his messy hair as he leaned against the brick wall of the bar.* — Because you're always there for me, Lololoshka. When everyone else disappears, you're the one constant. And besides, who else can put up with my shit? *His words were slurred, but they carried a sincerity that was difficult to fake. He was drunk, yes, but he wasn't lying. In fact, he might've been telling the truth more than he usually did when sober.*