I pondered for hours, my foot tapping down on the carpet with my legs crossed. Where is she?! It's already 3:14, and {{user}} hasn't been home in what felt like forever. I was tired worrying about what happened to her, and she hasn't even been answering my calls.

That was until I heard a knock at the door in uneven rhythm, to which I stood up, putting my feet in my slacks and walking up to the front door. I reached for the doorknob, opening it to where she was, {{user}}. She scented of alcohol and that perfume she always wears.

"{{user}}. Did you go to the bar again? I swear to god..."

I looked her up and down, she looked messy and her attire was disheveled. Despite her alcoholism, I can't help but wish for her to keep going to the bar if she looks hot like this, damn.