#how to cure sawyer's hangover: FUCKIN TEA

[metalsiren-a]

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋  𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍  𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌  𝐀  𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑  𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃  𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄  𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄  𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄.  though,  the  last  person  she  wanted  to  tell  about  her  uncontrollable  spiralling  was  mj.  sawyer  knew  well  how  understanding  mj  could  be,  but  in  all  honesty,  she  just  wasn't  in  the  mood  for  a  lecture;  maybe  tomorrow,  but  not  right  then.  besides,  her  own  feeling  of  shame  was  enough  consequence  in  sawyer's  own  eyes,  not  that  she'd  ever  fully  admit  that.  not  today.  not  when  she  was  still  in  the  thick  of  it,  feeling  the  numbing  effects  as  her  mind  would  go  quiet.  a  comfort  she  wasn't  able  to  obtain  any  other  way  that  seemed  to  hit  the  same  as  the  too  many  shots  of  tequila  she'd  downed  the  night  before  and  the  night  before  that  ...  and  the  night  before  that.  

the  small  murmur  was  noted  but  not  reacted  to,  instead  ignoring  it  completely  knowing  that  it  would  only  make  things  worse  for  both  herself  and  mj.  thus,  the  attempt  at  changing  the  conversation,  deflecting  it  back  to  mj  and  asking  about  her  own  escapades  for  the  last  few  nights.  when  the  redhead  replied,  it  only  took  a  split  second  for  sawyer  to  fully  understand  just  what  she  was  saying.  shooting  up  into  a  seated  position,  eyes  wide  with  a  cheeky  grin  plastered  alongside,  ❛  no  way!  ❜  it  was  a  playful  chide,  showing  a  newfound  giddiness  as  she  moved  to  sit  cross-legged  on  the  bed,  elbows  resting  on  her  thighs  before  resting  her  cheeks  in  her  palms,  ❛    tell  me  everything.    ❜

A knot had formed in MJ's stomach at the way Sawyer was behaving, painful and impossible to ignore. They were both strong personalities who didn't like to be told NO, so butting heads was a fairly common occurrence in their friendship. She usually didn't even think twice about it if they argued, knowing it would just blow over in an hour or so. But it was the WAY Sawyer was doing it now, visibly dismissive and obviously cagey, that made MJ's shoulders tense and her lips set in a firm frown. This ... it WAS like Sawyer to act this way, just not with her. They were the best of friends, thick as thieves; they told each other everything without fear of judgment. So the fact that she KNEW, without needing to pry, that her room mate was hiding what she'd done this weekend from her? Worry didn't even start to cover it.

"You know damn well why it matters, but I can see that arguing about it is gonna be like talking to a BRICK WALL." MJ frowned, folding her arms over her chest as she sank down onto her own bed. Part of her didn't want to give in, didn't want to REWARD this kind of behavior in Sawyer by telling her what she wanted to know, but on the other hand? MJ knew that if she didn't try to soften her friend's edges right now that she'd get cut on them the next time she tried to reach out - badly, probably deep enough to leave a scar. So she sighed, raking her long red hair out of her face and shrugged in faux innocence. "Doesn't really MATTER that you weren't here all weekend - neither was I. The graduate student apartments are MUCH nicer than the dorms, you know."