Mar. 14th, 2014

She'd been to the Smuggler's Arms a few times with Eamon before and it was a nice pub, as pubs went. Adrina was more of an upscale bar type of girl, or a dark goth club kind of girl - both options a little more obvious from her appearance and demeanor.

But this was certainly the first time she'd been here since she and Eamon had broken up.

She had rationalised this in her head so many times on her way here tonight: Eamon liked this pub. Eamon sometimes came to this pub. But! Eamon couldn't, logically, be in this pub every night and so if he happened to be there at the same time that she was there, then it would be an act of fate and nothing more that brought them together.

She missed him. She missed him like a dull ache deep down inside. No, not dull - there was nothing dull about this ache. It was full-bodied and brightly-burning and psychedelically coloured and it was painting every aspect of her days with pain.

It would be a chance meeting and likely wouldn't happen, and she'd convinced herself so much of it that when she walked in and he wasn't among the people there, the level of disappointment she felt actually surprised her. She felt her body sink into itself with it and her sigh was heavily dragged from her lungs.

She walked slowly over to the bar and leaned against it - in her corset she couldn't really sit comfortably on a bar stool. She'd dressed up far too much for a casual hanging out at the pub, wanting to look her best if he saw her. But now her tightly laced corset and freshly curled hair appeared to be for nothing.

Adrina ordered herself a vodka martini.
Every time Adrina turned her head on the tube ride home she could smell Eamon. He was all over her and by the time she'd reached home the overwhelming sadness had lifted from her and now she was filled with a bittersweetness about it all. She had been given one last night with Eamon. She had been able to end it all on their own shared terms. They were over, but it would be okay. Not tomorrow and not next month but, eventually, Adrina would be okay and missing him would become easier.

She showered slowly, letting the hot water drown her and not minding that it was washing Eamon's handprints away. It felt good and ritual and needed. She felt good.

She toweled herself dry and made her way to Quinn and Flynn's bedroom, knocking on their door and poking her head in. Birds were singing by now and sunlight was just beginning to properly enter the world.

"Quinny?" she asked. "You awake?"
It hadn't even been an entire day since Adrina had left his place, but the London sky was stained with evening by the time he headed towards the House of Rock. His body ached from their encounters the night before, but he hardly noticed. His hands were shoved into his pockets and they only came out when he rang the bell of the house that belonged to the girl he loved.

There had to be something they could do to salvage what they were; what they had. Eamon couldn't handle imagining his life without her. And maybe she had gotten to the place where she could, but he was farther away from it now that he had been before seeing her. So he waited for her to answer the door and then gave her an apologetic smile when she answered the door. "I'm really sorry," he said immediately.

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Darker London

October 2014

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