dig your hole, dig it fast | travis+lydia

[crownless]

[Travis doesn't know why he still comes here. The drinks all suck; the ambiance (if you could call it that) is null; everyone else here is crouched over their drinks as miserably as he is, sulking over his own half-empty beer.

Maybe he just feels sorry for himself. And, well, a shitty night calls for a shitty bar and even shittier beer.]

Jesus fucking Christ.

[Screw it. He drains the rest of the glass and sets it back onto the table with a thunk. Maybe if he has some more it'll start tasting good, or something.]

Comments

and then i actually tagged

[homemademolotov]

[ This is a pretty stand-up town, unfortunately - except for all the werewolves and murder - and there aren't many places that wouldn't see through Lydia's fake. This happens to be one of them, and it's disgusting. But she's not here to be a princess tonight, not here for girly drinks that taste like fruit juice instead of liquor. She's staring down her second glass of cheap whiskey and trying to forget a couple of things. ]

[ Like how Jackson looked when he died for real and for good, and, worse, that one time he tried whiskey after she dared him to and choked for five full minutes, then gasped and whined about how much it burned. She'd called him a pussy. Now he's dead and buried in a pit in the woods with a wolfsbane bullet in his heart. ]

[ She doesn't even know she's crying. ]