A little over twenty minutes later Isabella was at Meeghan's door, shuffling from foot-to-foot in an aggravated way. There was something bubbling inside her that she didn't think that she could control and she wasn't sure that she particularly liked that. She liked order in her relationships and in her work and she felt it was all just... spinning out of her control.
She pursed her lips together and knocked on the door. She should have called first, the rational part of her mind chimed in, since it was always possible that Meeghan was out – but she couldn't trust her own voice right now and she had to stay Stiff Upper Lip. She had to stay the Drill Sergeant here. Anything less than that and she couldn't be held accountable for her actions. She was always moody... or, always moody around Meeghan, anyway, and she didn't trust that. She didn’t trust that she wouldn’t just… fall apart.
With a sigh, she knocked again, starting to think that Meeghan was out or... 'out'.