･*:༅｡atticus ｡༅:*･
one could say atticus is present, but that isn’t entirely true. atticus, at the booth, no sleep from last night ( entirely fault of his own ) is barely standing up, though somehow he’s still grateful for the early shift. there won’t be many visitors this early and so they can spend time getting the booth ready and looking all fancy — why atticus even got this shift and this task is truly beyond him.
he does his best though, even only half awake and half working. that’s why evelyn’s presence and initial breakdown takes him a moment to process, but when he does he quickly pulls himself together. he crouches down next to the other, one hand coming up to rest on her back. « hey, treasure, what’s wrong ? »
evelyn wheezes slightly from the force of the breakdown, trying to catch her breath before responding. “clover fucking... god. i’m such an idiot, what the fuck.” she says between sobs, hiding her face in her hands as all she can manage to do is release all of her immediate reactions. everything that she’s kept in since just a few hours ago at the club, as the reality began settling in. and she can only imagine how hysterical and incoherent she was coming across as to the other, but none of it mattered. nothing seemed to matter now because she lost the one person she never thought she could. her own alcohol-induced actions getting in the way once again. and while she shouldn’t be surprised — this was far from the first time her dependencies have gotten in the way of relationships — she never thought it would lead her to fuck up something so great with her best friend. fuck. “clover doesn’t want to fucking talk to me anymore, i fucked up so bad, shit.” just expressing this sentiment, having to confront this, is enough to release another wave of tears and emotions.
