Work Text:
A breakup and three glasses of Pinot noir finds Barbara shivering and miserable outside of Renee's flat. The door opens in unspoken invitation, which is all she needs now: wordlessness, the absence of wordstrings latching onto her, pulling her back.
Wherever 'back' is nowadays.
Her decision to leave is still too fresh, the damage too keen, and this is not the place to be, not so soon. She knows. Yet she could no longer be alone at night.
When Jim calls, she doesn't answer. Her tongue is thick with wine and swallowed words, his plea another string around her neck.