#seboriley

It didn’t take long for Chessie to find him -- He was like a magnet for her, pulling her to him without even realizing it. Though they hadn’t spoke much since she admitted to wanting to be with him, the bottle of lemon vodka she was nursing calmed any nerves or doubts she’d have. It wasn’t clear to her where they were at any more, but if there last couple of run ins were any indicator -- They were still following their same patterns, brushing things under the rug. Truthfully, Chessie had no problem with it. She was game if he was, even if it was a destructive way to live. “Hello, handsome,” She greets him with a smirk, moving to sit on the counter top next to him. Crossing her legs, Chessie leaned her elbows on her knees, giving him an arched brow. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up.”

For lack of a better term, she felt like shit. The morning after she woke up, Chessie was shipped off to the Ostroff center, to take a temporary residency there for the week. The next seven days would be filled with meetings, and counseling sessions, answering for what had happened -- All while the movers worked on getting her things packed and moved to Wren’s guest room.  She’d been there for roughly three days, and within that time, she wasn’t any less miserable. Sleeping didn’t become any easier, dark circles becoming a permanent staple for her now. Tonight was proving to be just like the last three -- She’d spend her evening tossing and turning, before giving up and staring at her ceiling until the sun rose. That is, until a knock was at her door, disturbing her nightly routine. 

With an eye roll and a huff, she pulled herself from her bed, assuming it was another nurse at her door, consistently checking on her. Chessie knew they were just doing their jobs -- But she couldn’t help but feel some of the younger nurses were hoping to catch her in a lie, or have a story to tell about her after, rather than check on her well being. “Sheila, I’m fine,” she called out, before slowly making her way to the door, hands running through her now shorter hair. (She’d called in her stylist the day before, thinking cutting her hair to above her shoulders seemed like a good way to deal with trauma.) “I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” she grumbled as she opened the door, “I said I’m -- Oh.” And there he was, clear as day, standing in the doorway: Sebastian. He looked as disheveled as she did, though she was sure the dark circles under her eyes were darker than his. 

“Hey,” she spoke up after a moment too long, voice quiet and gentle. “What are you uh -- What are you doing here?” Chessie finds herself asking the obvious, leaning against the doorway. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, vulnerability coming out far too easily. She hadn’t expected him to show up -- But then again, Chessie hadn’t expected herself to be here. Truthfully, the sight of him made her far more emotional than she expected. “It’s... It’s good to see you.” She finds herself admit, lump forming in her throat.