InsaneJournal

Who: Rosalie and Ed
What: The reuniting of two old flames
Where: Outside R1
When: Backdated to Thursday, after this
Warnings: Unhappiness

Waking up Thursday morning, Rosalie immediately got dressed, hurried along by a sense of urgency. Grabbing a granola bar from her kitchen, she headed up the stairs to R1, muttering curses at Vlad under her breath. This was supposed to be his job. That was the point of Jude giving him the keys to Daniel's apartment. She quickened her pace as she passed the eleventh floor. Since she had seen Ed the other night, she had begun checking stairwells and hallways nervously before she entered them, hoping to avoid any and all conflict.

She made it to the penthouse floor without incident though, and although she glared at the doors to P2 and P3, she didn't stop. For the third time in about a week, she headed up the stairs to the roof hall. Being new, the door to R1 didn't quite fit into the design of this hallway, but at least it was closed. She tried the door, and scowled slightly when it swung open. Rosalie stepped cautiously over the threshold, entering the dark apartment with some reservation. One hand searched the wall for a light switch as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness.

There it was! No light flickered on though. Rosalie moved further in, trying not to fall or knock anything over. She found a working light in the living room, and the apartment was suddenly visible with all its clutter, which (unsurprisingly) neither she nor Jude had done much about. It looked nearly the same as the last time she had been here, and nothing suggested that a nosy tenant might have broken in.

Although Rosalie knew that she should probably leave now, she found the bag that she had brought up here on her last visit instead, and started combing the apartment for the remaining alcohol. Daniel would have to come back at some point, and when he did, she didn't want all of this available to him for relapse. She dug bottles out from cupboards, from under newspapers and broken furniture. There were traces of whiskey everywhere, even lingering stale in the air, evidence of a long steady downward spiral.

It was nearly an hour before she was reasonably certain that she had cleared out all of the liquor. Not knowing what she could do about the locked room, she left it alone for the time being, hoping that it was locked because Daniel never used it. Or because he didn't want to stumble in there drunk. Making a mental note to bring more food up, she also put away the boxes and cans that were lying around. Deciding that it was good enough for now, Rosalie picked up the bags of whiskey and made her way out of the apartment, locking the door securely and heading for the stairwell.