Given the amount of times Georgia made Shaun go out for Coke, it was inevitable that at some point she was going to end up on a coffee run. She'd ducked into the coffee shop after leaving Lissa's, mentally exhausted. And that was without considering the meeting with the Council tomorrow. And the headache that was threatening to erupt at the sides of her temples. 'Breathe, Georgia.' After all, she thought to herself, if you stop breathing, you die, and then people have problems.
She almost was beginning to understand why people abused substances: She felt on edge, and there were too many people in the coffee shop (there were about six).
Then the mug crashed to the floor and Georgia whirled around with the coffee she'd just picked up for Shaun in her hands, muscles tensed and eyes squinted shut behind her glasses in pain, "Jesus Christ!" She yelled, trying to will herself to relax slightly, her breathing pattern visible.
She cleared her throat, "Sorry."
It wasn't very sincere, but it was better than nothing.