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It was raining, much to Vaggie's dismay.
She kept it under wraps (apart from Charlie, who now quite literally knew all of her secrets), but she had Fibromyalgia, due to poor genetics. It was something she was typically able to mask through (although she did, admittedly, have a tendency to snap whenever the pain got too bad), but rain made it a million times worse.
Charlie was out that morning, running a few errands, so she couldn't even roll over in bed and have her girlfriend there to make everything feel a bit more bearable or help her out of bed.
It was okay, though. She'd been forcing through the pain since she was a kid.
So, despite the agony that radiated through her entire body, she got out of bed, got dressed, and went downstairs.
She immediately went to the bar, much to Husk's surprise. It wasn't that Vaggie never drank, but it was incredibly rare. The bar was mostly there for people like Angel, who were trying to get sober from harder and more dangerous substances, like heroin. Alcohol, while still bad and addictive, was a better alternative and helped encourage addicts off of their more harmful habits.
"What brings you here?" Husk asked, a raised eyebrow as he poured her a drink. She groaned and slumped against the counter, which was also surprising to him. She was usually far more collected than this.
"The rain" she groaned. He stared at her for a moment, then looked out the front window. He hadn't realized it was raining. "Need something to..." she swallowed, realizing that she'd nearly shared her secret with Husk.
"I get it" he nodded, not forcing her to elaborate. She looked at him gratefully and took the drink he'd poured her. Whether or not he actually got it, she wasn't sure, but she appreciated the sentiment. "Anything I can do?"
"Don't tell Charlie about this" she asked. He nodded. "I'll tell her, I just... I want to be the one to do it"
"Of course"
"Thank you, Husk"
"Yeah, yeah"