Brittle Bones || Lauren & [OPEN]
Lauren was no stranger to the early hours of the morning, something she supposed came with owning a bar. She couldn't say that she liked the fact, but she certainly didn't despise it, either. Her affection for the odd hours even went as far as moderate appreciation, restrained, as she did most things. It was calming, she often thought, to exist in the hours that others did not. That was not how she felt today. She wiped down the bar with perhaps more force than required, nails digging into the cloth in her hand, raising the other to rub at her temples, molten fury in her veins.
She wasn't sure what had caused the uncharacteristic lapse in her emotions. Maybe she'd finally grown weary of the bawdy men that didn't seem to quite understand the concept of rejection, the deafening music that blasted through the paper thin walls of her room on a bi-weekly basis, and the barren nothingness around the colony that seemed to sprawl out into eternity. Perhaps she had simply grown weary. That sounded about right.
Another aggressive swipe of her hand sent a shot glass over the bench, and she held in a groan as it tumbled to the ground, shattering. Get a hold of yourself, Mackenzie. Bending down to retrieve the broken shards, she hissed as a stray piece sliced into her knuckle, and she finally hung her head in defeat.
She let out a long breath in an attempt to calm herself down, ignoring the stinging of her hand. It worked for a moment, perhaps even a few moments, until the door creaked open. She struggled to contain another groan, rising to rinse her cut. "Bar's closed," she managed to get out, struggling to keep the frustration from entering her voice.
