Closed; Not Really Coping At All
Over the past week Skylar realized that there were two things that made her feel better: fresh air and alcohol.
No matter how much cleaning Harry had done she could still see her bloodied foot prints and shattered porcelain pieces, the echos of laughter haunter her late at night, tossing and turning at every sound. In the back of her mind she knew that Harry had put up protection spells and that she was save now but that didn't stop her anxiety from knotting at her stomach and keeping her mind up through the night. It was beyond frustrating.
Drinking helped. Each night when Harry had finally fallen asleep she would pull herself out of bed and head for the kitchen, pouring herself a tall glass of whatever she could find. Some times she'd stay up watching documentaries with Reid and other nights she'd just drink alone until she finally drifted off, too drunk and tired to worry about where she ended up. Though, each morning she ended up back in her own bed rather than the couch, not quite sure if that was her own doing or Harry's.
When the weekend came around and Ava wanted to catch up Skylar jumped at the chance, eager for a change of scenery.
Now here she was hours later after completely losing track of Ava and the amount of drinks that she'd had. There was somebody at the bar that had kept buying them for her, shot after shot chased down with vodka sodas. The music was loud and the crowd was eager to dance, just the way Skylar liked it and it didn't matter that she was alone now. The bartenders were nice, the drinks were strong, and there was a group of friends that reminded her of her own that kept pulling her back towards the dance floor.
No matter how much cleaning Harry had done she could still see her bloodied foot prints and shattered porcelain pieces, the echos of laughter haunter her late at night, tossing and turning at every sound. In the back of her mind she knew that Harry had put up protection spells and that she was save now but that didn't stop her anxiety from knotting at her stomach and keeping her mind up through the night. It was beyond frustrating.
Drinking helped. Each night when Harry had finally fallen asleep she would pull herself out of bed and head for the kitchen, pouring herself a tall glass of whatever she could find. Some times she'd stay up watching documentaries with Reid and other nights she'd just drink alone until she finally drifted off, too drunk and tired to worry about where she ended up. Though, each morning she ended up back in her own bed rather than the couch, not quite sure if that was her own doing or Harry's.
When the weekend came around and Ava wanted to catch up Skylar jumped at the chance, eager for a change of scenery.
Now here she was hours later after completely losing track of Ava and the amount of drinks that she'd had. There was somebody at the bar that had kept buying them for her, shot after shot chased down with vodka sodas. The music was loud and the crowd was eager to dance, just the way Skylar liked it and it didn't matter that she was alone now. The bartenders were nice, the drinks were strong, and there was a group of friends that reminded her of her own that kept pulling her back towards the dance floor.