Lena Katsaros (theylovetohate) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2017-03-07 20:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 069, camille, lena |
Who: Lena and open
When: Late morning
Where: Kitchen
Most of her discussion with whoever the hell that Fletcher thing had been was mostly in one ear and out the other - or was it eye, considering she'd read it? What-fucking-ever. None of this made any sense, but at the very least she wasn't in prison for the moment, and she was bound and determined to enjoy that. She'd stood to go in search of food, and practically fallen on her face, so she grudgingly climbed back into bed and slept for another hour. When she woke for a second time, she went into a bathroom that wasn't supposed to exist in real life and took a long, hot bath. And it felt fucking amazing. For the first time in months she didn't smell like cheap generic soap and that fucking terrible industrial detergent. It was with the deepest regret in the world that Lena put that goddamn orange jumpsuit back on, but she couldn't stand the smell to wear it fully. She left it unbuttoned and tied the arms around her waist, wearing only the white undershirt instead. Slipping back into the prison-issue rubber sandals, Lena left the room for the first time.
She explored a little, but all the while with a clear end-goal in mind. When she found the kitchen she could have cried. When she opened the fridge she thought she would cry. A lump formed in the back of her throat and she swallowed hard against it, took a deep breath, and helped herself to a beer and a pound of bacon. Within minutes she had the bacon cooking on the stove, and Lena was of a mind to eat herself into a goddamn diabetic coma. If it killed her, she'd go happy.