(no subject)
Jo walked into the brown house she didn't think of as 'hers,' dropping her bag by the door with a hard crunch, door left to swing wide open for Jack, or Dean, or simply because she didn't care enough to close it.
She turned left, walking without stopping, objects of glass clattered into her arms, and she kept walking. Her feet took up the stairs, and after that there was loud thump of a door down the hall hitting a wall. If anyone followed her, driver or roommate or Winchester or even a stray amazonian scrabble player, they'd find an odd enough scene.
Three bottles--tequila, vodka, and rum--with glasses were on the wan yellow linoliam floor of the bathroom, a gun rested on the closed toilet seat cover, a knife showed between her jeans and tank top along her spine, and Jo, still fully clothed, was leaned over the tub's edge testing the water temperature.
She turned left, walking without stopping, objects of glass clattered into her arms, and she kept walking. Her feet took up the stairs, and after that there was loud thump of a door down the hall hitting a wall. If anyone followed her, driver or roommate or Winchester or even a stray amazonian scrabble player, they'd find an odd enough scene.
Three bottles--tequila, vodka, and rum--with glasses were on the wan yellow linoliam floor of the bathroom, a gun rested on the closed toilet seat cover, a knife showed between her jeans and tank top along her spine, and Jo, still fully clothed, was leaned over the tub's edge testing the water temperature.