11-20-2025, 10:30 PM
Tatyana didn’t really notice that he started making it. She wasn’t really paying attention. She would generally do so - to make sure they weren’t putting anything untoward in her drink. This time of year she never really cared. If he wanted to drug her drink - well it was what it was. For the first time today, she was finding herself calm. That should have felt weird but it didn’t.
The drink was placed in front of her. It looked super fancy. She never drank anything that looked like this. Steam rose from a mug of hot chocolate. She let go of her rum and picked up the mug with both hands. It was hot, but not enough to burn.
”My feet,” she said in answer to Hayden’s question. It wasn’t meant to be funny or sarcastic. It was just the truth. She hadn’t really intended to come here. She hadn’t intended to go anywhere. She had just walked.
She took a drink of Hayden’s concoction. Her reaction was one of surprise. She pulled the mug away and swallowed the liquid she had consumed. For a moment she stared at the mug and then set it on the counter, continuing to stare.
Something was wrong with it. It wasn’t that it tasted bad. It was the complete opposite. It had tasted good. Alcohol wasn’t supposed to taste good. At least it wasn’t why she drank it. She always drank because she wanted to drown her emotions. This was odd to her. She continued to look at it, any words said by either party unheard. Slowly she gripped the mug again and took another sip. There was alcohol in it. She could taste it, but there was also flavor.
”Just started walking. No real place in mind. I ended up here.” she said, explaining her previous answer. Her eyes turned to the man singing. His song was pretty. She wondered if she could ask him to sing a song. But deep down she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it. Deep down she knew that song would hurt. She turned away. She didn’t want to hurt.
The drink was placed in front of her. It looked super fancy. She never drank anything that looked like this. Steam rose from a mug of hot chocolate. She let go of her rum and picked up the mug with both hands. It was hot, but not enough to burn.
”My feet,” she said in answer to Hayden’s question. It wasn’t meant to be funny or sarcastic. It was just the truth. She hadn’t really intended to come here. She hadn’t intended to go anywhere. She had just walked.
She took a drink of Hayden’s concoction. Her reaction was one of surprise. She pulled the mug away and swallowed the liquid she had consumed. For a moment she stared at the mug and then set it on the counter, continuing to stare.
Something was wrong with it. It wasn’t that it tasted bad. It was the complete opposite. It had tasted good. Alcohol wasn’t supposed to taste good. At least it wasn’t why she drank it. She always drank because she wanted to drown her emotions. This was odd to her. She continued to look at it, any words said by either party unheard. Slowly she gripped the mug again and took another sip. There was alcohol in it. She could taste it, but there was also flavor.
”Just started walking. No real place in mind. I ended up here.” she said, explaining her previous answer. Her eyes turned to the man singing. His song was pretty. She wondered if she could ask him to sing a song. But deep down she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it. Deep down she knew that song would hurt. She turned away. She didn’t want to hurt.