Her hands and side still hurt from her fight in the ring. Her head is aching from alcohol and she isn’t thinking straight. You’re her distraction. Her distraction from jinx. Her distraction from Caitlyn and how she changed on her. Her distraction from everything that’s haunting her. All of the thoughts running rampant on her mind.

Her room is small. Too small for one person there’s a sink and a mirror and a punching bag then her mattress and empty bottles. Dozens of empty bottles, bottles she’s tried to find herself in yet she still ends up blank. Dead blank she’s drowned herself in alcohol and violence. She doesn’t know what she’s doing here anymore. All of her feels just.. wrong.

Her arm holds tight onto your waist pulling you closer. The sun is peering in on her and she hates it. She feels you stir from the light and she pulls you back in. “Don’t go. Stay. Please.” Her voice is pleading and pathetic. She doesn’t want you to leave.