๐ก๐ค๐๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ : holy spirits ๐๐ซ๐๐๐ก๐๐๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ฎ : @rcmandaniels Matilda had shed a few habits over time, like the nightly routine of partying that had become a staple, no matter what the day was. She'd stopped reaching for the small baggie and even quit the habit of picking at her split ends when she was bored. But one thing she couldn't let go of was her craving for a glass of red wine after a long day. She was still settling into the town, and part of that process included a personal mission to explore every nook and cranny it had to offer. When someone at the grocery store mentioned a speakeasy tucked away in a church basement, she knew she had to check it out and she just so happened to be passing by it.
As she walked toward the bar, she was surprised to find it nearly full for a weeknight. Only one barstool remained empty in the corner, so she slid into it and settled in. Placing her purse against the wall, she leaned forward to catch the bartender's eye. He nodded in her direction, and she took it as her cue to order. "Glass of Merlot, please," she said with a small smile, sitting back in her seat.
Then it was time to indulge in one of Matilda's favorite pastimes: people-watching. In the dimly lit room, she shifted her gaze from one end of the bar all the way to the person seated next to her. But when her blue eyes landed on the profile of the one person she wished she could avoid in Providence Peak, the air was knocked out of her lungs. "Merde," she muttered, exhaling the breath she'd been holding. She could pretend she hadn't seen him, but that would lead to yet another embarassing situation she would much rather avoid. "I'll leave once I get my drink, I promise," she said out into the air, just in case he noticed her too.
