Summer slouched over the bar, turning her cup in one hand. It was mostly empty (the cup, not the bar), and looked like it hadn’t been refilled in some time. She lifted a hand to ward off the bartender who came over to offer a refill, in fact, and blew out a breath.
Given the effect it had on her abilities, drinking wasn’t much of a solace. But she wanted, very badly, to be so drunk she couldn’t stand, if it would stop her thinking. If it would stop the way her mind spun and twisted every time she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. She hadn’t rested, slept, in two days, and the strain told in the way her shoulders hunched up around her ears when someone else took the seat beside her.
“Hey.”