Forty | Vierzig | Quadragínta | сорок
She knew it was a bad idea. She even told herself as she stared in the mirror earlier that day. ‘Bad idea. Bad idea.’ And holy shit did she call it.
Libitina’s feet dragged on the ground softly. It was night— the city lights shining. It all seemed so far away. She stared at her feet, blonde bangs covering her eyes so no one could see she was straining to keep them open and keep walking. Just to keep her balance, she had to stare at her toes. Her red dress swayed and the itty bitty cross around her neck seemed heavy.
She wasn’t drunk— but in this moment in time she rather be drunk more than anything. At least when she’s drunk, she knows it happened on her own terms. While when your drink is drugged— it’s different. Luckily, there wasn’t a lot of said drug but enough to make her walk uneven and her vision blur at a much faster rate than drinking could ever do.
There was a man behind the sinner. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to get hurt badly. Which is also why she left the party early. She needed to go home. She needed somewhere safe. Her goal was the chapel. She could claim sanctuary and be untouched, even to the police.
At least that’s what she prayed for.
That’s when her blue hues caught hold of a figure in front of her. She didn’t know them— nor did she care. She needed them. With what was left of her, she pushed herself forward, taking off into a quick sprint. “Hey!” she called, coming to a stop beside the person. She wrapped her arms around one of their own. She needed it to look convincing. Her life was on the line.
"Hey you!" She chirped, a smile consuming her face. And soon enough, the shady man behind her was gone and she could go back being close to helpless.
Her eyes became barely open, her skin toned eye shadow sparkling under the street lamps. “Sorry uh— Listen I— I uh— I…” She kept pausing.
Libby’s brain was moving away. She needed to be conscious. She couldn’t pass out without explaining! That would be so rude of her!
"I uh— There was a man following m-me.. Listen uh— Take me to the…the chapel up the street I—….I uh… Just lay me on a pew. I’ll be—Be fine. You can even… take my money for your… your troubles… Er—…"
Not yet. She couldn’t pass out yet. She needed help. She wasn’t done— Not now—…She was barely conscious as she leaned heavily on the figure. Her feet dragged and she kept tripping over the littlest things.
"Please I… Please I need…. I need…"
