@sashaxramsey
Alcohol. It would comfort her. Of course, there were less volatile ways to help her own sorrow. But alcohol was what seemed to come easiest. Facing her problems sounded like she was bound to explode--or implode. She wasn’t sure which. Ultimately, she can’t think about that right now. Maybe next week or maybe next year. For now, she’s just trying to get through. Her black dress from the funeral still clings to her body as she sets off toward a friend’s house, a friend she knew wouldn’t sit there and judge and certainly wouldn’t ask questions. They barely knew each other, in fact. Sasha likely didn’t even know that Izzy was supposed to be sober right now, when in reality, she’s been drinking since the service. Knocking on the door to Sasha’s apartment, Izzy calls out for her. “I come baring-- alcohol.”
