away from all of reality

@cassandra-ross​

It was late and Cassandra knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Her mind raced with thoughts...about every little thing, work, life, family, friends, and then Gabe. And that was how she made her way to his place, sitting down on his bench and waiting for him to arrive home. She looked up when she saw the headlights shine along the path up to the beachfront house that came to a stop and she watched him get out of the truck and stop in front of her, reaching for her.

open starter @indulgencerpgstarters​

open thread | roxie x anyone location: any bar @indulgencerpgstarters​

Cassandra tapped her fingers on the solid surface of the bar as she threw back a shot of whiskey. Setting the shot down on the glass, she let her eyes follow and trail up the body of someone who sat next to her until her eyes landed on the other’s eyes. 

open. @indulgencerpgstarters​ loc. any fitting bar

Cassandra held a cigarette between her fingers, taking a drag from it before putting it out in the ashtray and returning her eyes to the drink in her hand. With a stoic expression she slammed back the shot, the whiskey going down her throat and she didn’t pull a face. Another night of drinking was passing by. She could feel this agitated energy that she knew was coming from whatever mental illness she had that hadn’t been addressed, and this was the time she tended to drink a lot. Hearing a voice come up to her, she nodded in acknowledgement. "Are you new in town? Mayhem’s great. I personally prefer Affinity myself, but this place was closer from work.” She shrugged. Were there legit tears actually forming in her eyes? What was going on with her? “Sorry.”

Open to all || @indulgencerpgstarters​ Location || Hospital 

This was stupid. Cassandra’s mother had insisted she go to the emergency room after she’d stupidly drank too much and wasn’t able to keep anything down, vomiting at least twenty times. Her mother was concerned about alcohol poisoning and so there Cassandra was, in the hospital with an IV pumping fluids down her and Zofran given to her. She admittedly felt better, but still, she was ready for them to discharge her. She wandered the hallways like a zombie in her hospital gown, exhausted and bored, when she saw someone lying down on one of the benches. She shrugged her shoulders at his words. “I don’t blame you,” she said. “Can I just leave? I don’t want to be here. Actually, it’s silly and a waste of a bed that I’m here to begin with. I’m only here because I got a little too drunk but who doesn’t from time to time? Please,” her eyes pleaded. “I really want to go home. Can you tell them to speed up the process?”