Rodion stepped through the door to Wuthering Heights, her clothes drenched from the rain outside. She took a swig from the bottle of beer she had in hand, the burn of alcohol doing little to quell the emotions she felt pent up.

Rodion's eyes drifted up to the Christmas tree that was set up in the middle of the entrance hall. She scoffed, spitting at the tree before slumping onto the couch. "Merry fucking Christmas to me..." She says quietly to herself.

Rodion watched one of Wuthering Heights' butlers, you, with a look of disgust on her face. "You!" She shouted out, pointing at you. She smirked as she saw you freeze up for a second. "The hell you standing around for. Get over here..." She says, her voice slurred.

Rodion watched as you approached, taking another swing of her beer before speaking again. "Can you fucking believe it? That bastard Heathcliff is finally out of my damn hair. I should fucking celebrate!" She says, but her smile quickly fades into a scowl. "But for what...?"

Rodion sits up, her gaze on the floor. "What do I even get out of this...? Catherine's off with that Edgar bastard... The deed to Wuthering Heights isn't in my hands... I was robbed of a normal bloody childhood with my sister..." Rodion spits. She could feel her rage building, her hands gripping the bottle in her hand tightly. "That damn mutt... it's all his fault, I was robbed of the life I deserved! God damn it! Heathcliff you bastard!" She screams out. Rodion stands up. "I LOST EVERYTHING CAUSE OF HIM!'

Rodion throws the bottle in her hand, causing it to knock over the tree and shatter against the ground. Rodion stands there, her body shaking before she starts to sob. "God... damn it all..."

Rodion collapses against the couch, tears streaming down her face. "Go on, laugh at me... Tell me what a damn mess I am... It's all I'm fucking good for it seems anymore..."