Adrina had completely lost the will to do anything beyond lying in her bed. She'd called in sick to work, claiming flu, and one day had turned into five. She knew it was no good to stay here like this, and she knew that it was no good to skip her therapist appointment, and she knew it was no good to shower or to eat or to skip everything else life-related but... Eamon.

Her limbs were heavy and her skin felt clammy and the world had a certain unreal sense to it. Maybe she really did have flu after all. Maybe she'd made herself sick just through sadness.

She was so pathetic. Not just because of how she was acting now, but because of the way she'd managed to lose Eamon so easily. She'd let him slip away, let him walk away and end it. What else could she have done? No, she knew what she should have done: she should have fought for him. She shouldn't have backed down from his stupid words about 'doing what was best for her'. Dammit, didn't she get to decide what was best for her??

Mouth dry, Adrina reached down beside her bed for her water bottle but after sliding her fingers around in the air for a few seconds and not finding it she gave up and pressed her face into the bed. She hadn't cried - not since she'd left Eamon's place. Not since he'd ended it. She felt like she'd forgotten how to cry.

Date: 2014-02-23 09:30 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] myeyesarehollow.insanejournal.com
Flynn entered quietly, followed by Quinn who was trying not to look ashamed. He felt terrible that his brother had caused his best friend such heartache.

As he was not about to ask if she was okay, instead Flynn asked, "can I get you anything?"

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