Re: quicklog: Steph &Tim
Stephanie had done the whole therapy thing herself, and look at how well that stuck. (Honestly, she was a total proponent of therapy, but she knew it wasn't for everyone. And they definitely all grew up in a family that didn't push for that. Or talk about issues. It was very Irish Catholic of them.) She had her own diagnoses, depression and PTSD, but she had ignored those issues for too long. Now, she just used bandages to hold those festering wounds closed until she could face the music and get it looked at. Maybe that was sooner than she thought, but that definitely wasn't something she was anticipating around the corner. So, she totally understood not wanting to go to and face your problems. But, maybe it would be good for all of them, every single person from back home, to air their grievances to a professional.
For now, she'd just cry and eat ice cream and watch trashy reality TV. And maybe flirt with exes or strangers online.
Steph didn't think about love at that moment either, but her stomach flipped a little, too. She continued her smile, even as it faltered slightly with nerves. She laughed, however, when he provided his drink choice, and something relaxed in her shoulders. A tension clicked off for a moment. "You and the goddamn energy drinks. Your teeth and insides are gonna rot out one day very soon." Shaking her head, she went over to the fridge. "Unfortunately, I don't carry that cancer maker, but I have coffee." She opened the fridge to show more contents. "Or beer?" She wasn't sure where Timmy landed on the drinking scale -- 1 being a straight edge and 10 being an incomprehensible lush -- but she thought she'd wade those waters too. She could see how frayed his nerves were and the jitteriness in his movements. "Or water." She grinned before sobering up. "Thanks for coming, by the way. And let me know if he's annoying you." She referred to Flounder, the fat-headed older lab that was currently sniffing Tim aggressively and trying his best to lick this new person's face.