sookiescookies (sookiescookies) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2014-04-26 21:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | !open, ~sookie stackhouse |
Who: Sook and Nigel
Where: The pub
What: Drinking alone - or not
When: Saturday night, late
Rating: TBD
Open: Yes with asking first and good reason
Status: Ongoing/incomplete
It got easier, day-by-day, slowly, living with what she had done in Louisiana. It still felt like there was blood dripping from her hands and between her fingers, soaking into the cracks of her palms. But the ache of murdering her Grandmother's killer was nothing compared to the ache of missing home. It had hit her today, making pecan pie and delivering a bottle of Bourbon to Robin, that she would most likely never see her home again. The island gave you a tantalising glimpse of it and stole that hope away for it to burn and die. She'd seen it too many times to count and being near Izzy, Tom, Jake... it made her burn from longing to have that connection and closeness. They were friends and maybe close enough to family but it didn't feel the same since Louisiana had been torn from her.
Sook dropped off the last of her deliveries, another late night one to Peggy and her boys, and couldn't face the thought of going back home to a cold bed. She entertained the idea of texting Hannibal but their last encounter made her wary of his addictive nature. Feeling like his world was a powerful thing and it was intoxicating. Maybe she should do like Robin did and get the normal kind of intoxicated.
Spotting Mitchell's on the way back, practically deserted and full of whiskey and tequila to help her forget. It was perfect. She shrugged off her jacket and sweater to a white tank top with her flour-dusted jeans and sneakers, she slid up to the bar and stole a bottle and a shot glass, shoving the juke box on on the way to a booth at the back.