Those hands. Those fucking perfect hands. He looked down at his own hands and groaned. Why couldn’t they have used Dom’s hands as a substitute for his in the film? That way he wouldn’t have to look at those ugly fingers again. Fingers without nails. Fingers without nails that were covered in dirt. How gross. The thought alone disgusted him. He needed a drink. Not another beer, a real drink. Maybe some vodka. Some vodka would be nice. And some cranberry juice. Some vodka and cranberry juice. That’s what he needed.
He slid out of the booth he was sharing with Dom and Billy and couldn’t help but take another look at those hands. They were so....girly. He sat down on the barstool and ordered his drink. Dom had fucking girly hands. Smooth, perfect, girly hands. I bet you he got a manicure every week. He snorted. Faerie. He could keep his fucking girly hands. He had the eyes. The blue eyes. The blue eyes that everyone talked about. He was Elijah fucking Wood. He didn’t need perfect hands. He had the eyes.
The bartender handed him his drink and he picked it up and walked back to the table. Dom was twirling his ring. A perfect silver band on a perfect girly finger. I bet you he put lotion on his hands too. He probably carried a bottle around in his pocket in case his perfect girly hands got dry. He hated those hands.
He hated his hands. He really should stop biting them. Someone had told him to try hot sauce. Or was it pepper? No...hot sauce. They told him to try hot sauce. To put it on the tips of his fingers so he wouldn’t bite them. Maybe he’d try that. Might be messy. Hot sauce was messy. He had to try it. He had to try something. He hated his hands. He hated Dom’s hands too. He threw back his drink and swallowed. He closed his eyes and he could still see Dom’s perfect fucking girly hands twirling that stupid silver band. He hated Dom’s hands. He got up again.
“Where are you going?”
It was Dom.
“To get another drink.”
“How many is that now, mate? Six, seven? Don’t you think you should cool off for a bit?”
“I’m fine.”
“Lij...”
He walked back towards the bar. Stupid Dom. Who was he to tell him to stop drinking? Stupid Dom and his stupid fucking girly hands. He needed a drink. Maybe some vodka. Yeah, some vodka would be nice.