It's my battle ARMOR (ap)

          It’s nice not to worry about what’s going to happen next, not worrying what she should or could be doing. The town is quiet and being around Ruby and Mary Margaret just having a night in actually puts her at ease. Everyone’s sharing about their lives and while Emma remains more tongue tied in this category, she makes a comment that might hint that life for her wasn’t all that glamorous.           Ruby’s comment catches her off guard and rather than laugh it off as she normally would, she feels flustered, brow raising and eyes looking elsewhere. It’s not a common comment she gets, not from anyone. She’s had her share of one night stands, usually being told how sexy she is, how hot she looks. Beautiful isn’t a word used often, let alone from another girl. ⊰ Um.. Thank you? You    don’t have to say that. ⊱

          She looks up at the bartender for a moment, not really registering what he’s saying. It takes her a few minutes before giving a weak nod and a soft thank you. She disregards the water, not that she’s trying to snub his attempts as caretaker. She doesn’t want to dull down the affects of the alcohol. She wants the numbness to take her.           How long as she been here? When has she last eaten? She can’t remember and the drinking doesn’t help. Fingers spread against her temples, rubbing them lightly before taking one of the napkins and dabbing at her eyes. She’s glad most people are gone. Less to worry about in this small town.  ⊰ I’m not that hungry.. Thanks though..     Thanks..  for  trying.  I  know  you’re     closing soon. I’ll get out of your hair     in a minute... ⊱

⊰ You’re joking right? ⊱           She takes another look around, realizing that while the place does seem empty, everything else has been either reupholstered or updated. Has this place been here long? The structure itself seems old. Maybe it used to be an old motel and his mother just bought it? She can’t really say.  ⊰ Yeah.. Just me. ⊱           A frown settles at the thought but it doesn’t last. She can’t think about where she’s been, only where she’s going, and right now, she’s here in this moment. She leans forward, looking around to see if anyone else may be walking toward them. Once the coast is clear, she grins. ⊰ Scale of 1 to 10. How likely is it that there     was a murder here? ‘cause it looks to me     like it may be a solid 8... ⊱

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