Chapter Text
It's all her fault.
At least that's what everyone believes and tells her so why shouldn't she believe it too.
She chuckles at the thought, drowning herself in a scotch, his favorite drink. She runs a shaking hand through her red locks looking into the blank slate only focusing on her brain who was not helping her feel better.
It’s because she deserves nothing… Everyone deserves something good or bad but she, her, Addison Adrianne Forbes Montgomery deserves nothing.
Everyone calls her “Satan” there has to be an undertone she didn't pick up. He calls her “Satan” and the thought haunts her. Her own husband had her painted as a fucked up red headed devil… Perfect right.
He moved on… fast nothing less… with her… a skinny 26 year old who had a life ahead of her.
Skinny
The word lingered… she felt out of control but she couldn’t, she shouldn’t, but maybe… she shouldn’t… but it can help the pain. Numb the pain.
She’s crying at a bar for fucks sakes. Some self control would be nice about now. The alcohol isn’t working these fucking muffins aren’t working for gods sakes.
The muffins
She has water in front of her so why shouldn’t she. Maybe she should narrow her calories and workout in a healthy way. She needs to numb the pain. She needs it to go. She needs to get the pain out today so she can attend work tomorrow with no problems.
“Can I have another glass of water joe?” She can feel and hear the slur in her voice.
She’s lonely and drunk better than lonely and horny because she would
never be in a bar covered in peanuts if she wasn’t horny and lonely that night in the brownstone.
“I called a cab Montgomery, 15 minutes” Joe said to her, handing her the glass of water and a water bottle for the road.
15 minutes
Just this once to make her feel complete then it would be all over, once and it’s over.
She chuckles thinking she sounds like an addict but she never noticed how she unconsciously ended up in the bar's toilet stall. One time, ok?.
Her fingers and her throat worked in a muscle memory way, Pushing out the muffins, scotch, and water that she only consumed for the day. She can feel the burning of the scotch linger in her throat feeling like she threw up razor blades.
“Fuck” she whispered to herself, closing her eyes and opening as if this was a nightmare that would disappear if she could wake herself up. She stared into the toilet bowl looking at the little drops of blood. So she did cut herself no matter why her throat burns.
She made her way out of the stall coming forward to a concerned familiar blonde waiting at the sink.
“Are you ok?” Meredith mentally punched herself for sounding so childish and small. Addison looked disheveled but somewhat happy? She was throwing her guts in the stall. How could she look disheveled but calm?
“No but if you're asking about the puking I'm ok” The redhead joined her at the sink taking a swig of the water bottle and gurgling it, spitting it into the sink. She watched in the mirror at the blood speckles in the sink. She felt her stomach in her throat as she tried to talk to Addison but as she came up with a sentence that wouldn’t scare her away the redhead was gone.