[ visual | location: Sookie's house ] be just fine and dandy lord it's like a hard candy christmas
Sookie's Christmas was the first she's ever spent alone. It's hard, missing the people she left back in Bon Temps (Lord help her, she misses Bill; heartbreak can't seem to erase what she feels for him. Felt for him. Oh, fine, it's the first.)
But Lord knows she's had enough moping, and it's not in her nature anyway. Instead, she's taken it on herself to clean the house she took over top to bottom, the project keeping her mind from dwelling on the lingering uncertainty, sadness.
She slips on some water and the teapot in her hands goes flying, crashing against the wall and shattering into a million pieces. It was nothing, just a nice little flowered thing she got for herself around the holidays. But as her knees crash to the floor and starbursts of pain run up her legs, that teapot seems like the last straw.
Without thinking about it, she stretches out her hand and light arcs out, and the pieces are dust, now. She slumps down, resting her hands on her knees and hanging her head. "Oh, hell." There's a small beep and either her power turned the tablet on or her luck is just that awful, because when Sookie looks up it's recording her slumped defeat and she quickly scrambles off her knees-- not completely being able to hold back a tiny moan of pain as she does so-- to flip it off.
But Lord knows she's had enough moping, and it's not in her nature anyway. Instead, she's taken it on herself to clean the house she took over top to bottom, the project keeping her mind from dwelling on the lingering uncertainty, sadness.
She slips on some water and the teapot in her hands goes flying, crashing against the wall and shattering into a million pieces. It was nothing, just a nice little flowered thing she got for herself around the holidays. But as her knees crash to the floor and starbursts of pain run up her legs, that teapot seems like the last straw.
Without thinking about it, she stretches out her hand and light arcs out, and the pieces are dust, now. She slumps down, resting her hands on her knees and hanging her head. "Oh, hell." There's a small beep and either her power turned the tablet on or her luck is just that awful, because when Sookie looks up it's recording her slumped defeat and she quickly scrambles off her knees-- not completely being able to hold back a tiny moan of pain as she does so-- to flip it off.