Post by Twain Saber on May 13, 2009 18:30:44 GMT 1
Twain was grateful her house was fairly close. Being in the enclosed car was making her twitchy. She disliked enclosed spaces, part of the reason she never fixed her wall. For the most part she was just dizzy with a dull headache and she could not focus her eyes. Twain walked with some difficulty in a straight line to the apartment complex. She opened the doors before looking back at Jonathan.
“Coming or not?” She said with a smirk.
After entering her apartment, she wondered why it had to be up so many flights of stairs and left the door open. She rather noisily tripped over a stack of books she had left on the floor. Scowling at them, Twain kicked them aside. Twain walked over to her medicine cabinet; it consisted of many different kinds of alcohol. It didn’t matter that she was underage because no one ever brought it up. Anyone who did found themselves in severe pain. Twain was not a patient person. Medicine had very little effect on Twain, so after a while she just stopped buying it.
Twain pulled out a clear glass bottle and eyed it suspiciously. She took the cap off and sniffed it suspiciously. After figuring that it was normal, she took a swig. She stuck out her tongue and made a gross face. Whatever it was it was strong. Twain scrunched her face up and shook her head. She opened her eyes. She still couldn’t see clearly but her headache was gone. She noticed Jonathan and decided to make conversation.
“So what should I call you, Jonathan or John? Thanks for driving me back by the way. If you would like you can have something to drink,” She gestured to the cabinet. “I don’t know what half of it is though so be warned.” Twain shrugged and sat down on the floor.
“Coming or not?” She said with a smirk.
After entering her apartment, she wondered why it had to be up so many flights of stairs and left the door open. She rather noisily tripped over a stack of books she had left on the floor. Scowling at them, Twain kicked them aside. Twain walked over to her medicine cabinet; it consisted of many different kinds of alcohol. It didn’t matter that she was underage because no one ever brought it up. Anyone who did found themselves in severe pain. Twain was not a patient person. Medicine had very little effect on Twain, so after a while she just stopped buying it.
Twain pulled out a clear glass bottle and eyed it suspiciously. She took the cap off and sniffed it suspiciously. After figuring that it was normal, she took a swig. She stuck out her tongue and made a gross face. Whatever it was it was strong. Twain scrunched her face up and shook her head. She opened her eyes. She still couldn’t see clearly but her headache was gone. She noticed Jonathan and decided to make conversation.
“So what should I call you, Jonathan or John? Thanks for driving me back by the way. If you would like you can have something to drink,” She gestured to the cabinet. “I don’t know what half of it is though so be warned.” Twain shrugged and sat down on the floor.