A Twisted Up Frown, Disguised As A Smile

[acontrollist]

Rachel isn't one to make impulsive decisions. She usually takes as long as possible to think things through, weighing the pros and cons of each outcome.

She obviously didn't do that tonight, since she's standing in Sam Evan's doorway, a bottle of vodka in her hand.

Honestly, she doesn't know what else to do.  Ever since she hung up that picture that Sam drew of her a month ago, she and Bradley have been doing nothing but fighting (and having makeup sex, but that's neither here nor there). Tonight was the worst though.  There was screaming, name calling (whore was thrown both ways) and one of her favorite crystal vases is still sitting in 3 pieces on her kitchen counter. It probably didn't help matters that as soon as Bradley had left ("Where are you going?! We're not finished talking about this!" "Out. Don't wait up.") Rachel did the only thing she could think of, which was calling Sam, who'd told her to just come over.

She's not even sure how the vodka came into play, but getting drunk sounds really good right now.

Comments

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

They're not far from his apartment and they're rounding his street when he tells her that he made space for her in his room. She grins, stopping out front of the building to kiss his cheek. "Thank you so much." She takes the key, hugging him before she opens the door. "I'll see you after class then? Should I make dinner or do you have plans or do you want to order out?"

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

"No problem," he beams back at her. "I don't have plans. But you don't have to go to the trouble of making dinner. We'll order out, or even go out if you feel like it."

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"I feel look cooking dinner." She giggles, waving a little as she steps into the building and heads to the elevator.