It was already three in the morning, and he wasn't home. She knew she shouldn't have been worrying- he always hated when she worried- but she couldn't help it. He was always safe, but that's not the point. He had been staying late at the Ministry for a couple of weeks now, and it was beginning to make her think; three in the morning was pushing it. What was he doing that required him to stay out so late? Every negative thought she had been pushing out of her mind for the baby, but she knew she had to come face-to-face with reality soon- and Alen had deserved to know that she was with child. But lately, she had hardly been able to see him because of his "job." Simply thinking about what he was really doing made her cringe and come close to tears, but she knew that she had to be strong about this. For her baby.
"Ma'am?" Alana's head snapped up, a near-empty glass of firewhiskey in her right hand, and a young, peppy waitress standing over her. "Another firewhiskey for you, ma'am?" She asked, likely not for the first time, as a tinge of irritation stung her voice.
Lana took a second to breathe in through her nose, putting herself through unnecessary stress just thinking about him. His face made her feel sick to her stomach and angry. An omnipresent rage came over her, and she clutched her glass tighter. "Well?"" The waitress grew tired of waiting, and Lana grew tired of her sass. "Listen here little girl, maybe if you weren't so persistent you'd have a boyfriend by now." The waitress took a step back, and continued on, "And maybe if you weren't such a B**** you wouldn't be at a rundown bar by yourself." Alana raised from her seat and got closer to the girl, who was at least six inches shorter than her, and snatched the bottle of firewhiskey from her hands. "I'd suggest leaving if I were you" Lana warned with a permanent look of detest on her face. The girl left in haste, nearly knocking a table over in her way. With a laugh, Lana took a swig from the bottle; not nearly drunk, but not nearly sober.
Running her fingers through her hair full of waves, Lana looked over at a couple sitting in the corner of the Cauldron. They must have been close to her age, but they were snogging as if they were teenagers. As much as she loved being alone, there came a time when the loneliness was so strong that even alcohol couldn't numb it. And it was nights like these that made her think of her baby, and where she was, and not where she was buried. Sometimes, even a nomad needs someone to talk to.
by Alana York Mon Jul 14, 2014 5:34 pm
