Meg allowed him to steer them into his apartment, but she pulled free of his grasp as she moved through the door. She made a B line for the bathroom, closing the door behind her without a word. Bending over the sink, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, a questioning look on her face. What the Hell had just happened to her? She'd done the unthinkable. She'd said the words aloud. In front of him, no less. A little voice told her she should end this circus now, before it was too late. Save them both. But wasn't it already too late? She took a moment to think about what leaving would mean. She tried to picture Castiel living a normal human life, going about his daily business, maybe meeting someone. She could see another woman's hand on his arm, see him turn that tiny half smile on her, tell her he loved her.
Before she realized what she was doing, her hand had balled into a fist and slammed into the mirror. She hadn't used full strength, but it shattered in a spiderweb of cracks all the same. Tiny shards rained into the sink and stuck to her knuckles, which began to sluggishly bleed. She flexed her fingers, and laughed softly, in a self deprecating way. Yes, it was definitely too late for her.
Grabbing a wash cloth, she turned on the sink and ran it under the water. Carefully, she cleaned the glass out of her cuts, annoyed that she now had a mirror to replace, apparently. Her headache was getting worse. Rather disgusted with herself, she stripped down to her underwear, casting her grimy clothes onto the floor, and doing her best to clean herself up as she stood at the sink. She would at least not reek of alcohol and sweat when she faced him again. It was a small comfort, but it was something. Grabbing a bottle of mouth wash from the sink top, she rinsed her mouth, feeling, if nothing else, less disgusting.
Opening the door, standing in her underwear, she might have tried to emphasize her state of undress. In the past, she would have. Now it hardly mattered. He'd seen the whole package after all, it's not like she had anything to hide from him anymore.
"I broke your mirror," she said, nonchalantly. "I'll get you a new one." She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the door frame, and waited. She knew he wanted to talk, but she wasn't going to help him with this particular conversation.