Drifting On A Strange Addiction // katie & jamie
It took all of eleven shots of Vodka to calm her nerves, and once the winds have died down it was hard for her to point what it was that made her so angry, to begin with. If it weren’t for how much she had cherished him she mightn’t have granted him with such friendliness but she knew she shouldn’t delude herself with such thoughts of aggressiveness when it came to him. Perhaps that was the reason she had been drawn to him-- always dipping her toe in danger-- she had a feeling she was about to take a dive.
More often than not, Katie had chosen to wander the streets with her head down-- it was her intuition, she supposed, that helped her dodge the peering eyes that stripped her of everything she is, everything she has ever been, and cast her as the survivor. Her brother was dead. Then her sister. Her best friend was probably about to as well, at some point. And then there was Jamie. Like a veiled widow, she had graced the streets of Baberton with their kin for agony the past few months. She had a role to play, after all. The flat she found was small and in a rather sketchy area of Baberton, (but was that really necessary of her to add? There is no place where you don’t feel a certain wind blowing at the back of your neck. There are always eyes peeping at your soul, and even doublethink is treason,) but Katie had soon fallen for it. One must be at peace with oneself to find happiness in such a tiny place. And while no one had come to visit, the small room had flourished with gossip and activity. That said, to those who had occupied it.
As she walked further away from work and closer to salvation, she knew all of what would expect her there. Jamie-- lying on her bed, his clothes may or may not be off, and with the same grin that had always meant the same thing. That thought calmed her more than anything, and still did as she unlocked the door. Not everything is like a rom-com. Some love stories are horror films. He should know.
@jamie--kirk