when: late July, 2016 (flashback) where: the Last Drop with: @aster-jung
Outside, dusk had begun muting the shades of a glimmering sunset – the yellows and pinks turning violet and then dark at the edges; pinprick stars cutting through the veil of thin-spun, fleeting clouds. Montana was warm, this time of year. Without so much as a breeze to rustle the trees, it made her think of other nights, far removed from her now-home. But the heat didn’t linger, here; didn’t stick to her skin like the oppressive feeling of someone else’s breath on her neck. Sometimes, she missed it. Sometimes, she wasn’t sure ever could.
Despite the temperature – or maybe because of it – the Last Drop was packed. Droplets of water clung stubbornly to the sides of cold bottles; ice cubes slowly melting as people found refuge at the bottom of the glass. Her black jeans were a uniform, at this point; as was the faded old tee she’d put on.
She found an open spot by the bar, next to––
“… Aster, right?” She’d seen her hanging around Will, before – one of the many mysterious residents at the likewise mysterious house that Will mysteriously lived in. ( –– But there were weirder things in the world than something that existed somewhere between a frat and a halfway house. )
“–– This seat taken?”