Obsessed with Submission

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A glass of cranberry juice mixed with Pink Whitney sits on the floor beside the beanbag chair. Ophelia sits in it, eyes on her phone watching TikTok. She keeps scrolling, videos of cute animals, crafts, and the like pop up on her FYP. She down the glass, pouring more of the premade concoction that sits in a jug next to the glass. She's on her third glass and so far, Ophelia doesn't feel the effects. That being said, she spent the entire weekend drunk and on a sugar high. So Ophelia is definitely still hungover and on the way to being drunk again.

A single text to Judy notifying her that Ophelia is back but will see her tomorrow on Monday is the extent of communication she's had today. It's Sunday evening. She drove back to Nashville around noon. She spent a few hours cleaning her messy apartment and even went to the basement to wash clothes. As Ophelia watched the clothes spin in the washer she had almost thrown up since the sight made her dizzy. She's back in her apartment stretched out on the beanbag chair and finishing off the last of the Smirnoff Ice pink lemonades. Mixing her drinks was a good idea in Ophelia's book.

There's a knock at the door. She sways to her feet, glass in hand. It was probably Judy or Aunt Azalea. She checks the peephole and audibly groans at who she sees. "What?" She opens the door for Samantha.

Samantha's eyes look at her disheveled appearance up and down critically. "You're drunk."

"Yes ma'am." Ophelia shuts the door in her face. It only opens back up. She glares at the redhead. "By all means, come inside." She stumbles down the hallway and clumsily falls into her beanbag chair. The glass is empty so Ophelia pours another glass, drinking distractedly.

"Do you usually drink when you're upset?" Samantha walks inside, shoes off.

"No." Ophelia giggles. "I usually cry. Which I haven't done yet."

The redhead stands a foot away. She takes in the scene. Empty bottles of alcohol and food wrappers all surround Ophelia on the carpet. "When was the last time you drank water and ate something other than sweets?"

Ophelia downs her drink. She smacks her lips, savoring the sweet taste. "Thursday."

Samantha walks in a circle around her. "Mmm. Are you always this honest when drunk?" She has her hands in her pockets like usual. Which Ophelia finds lame, she wants to see her hands. It's one of Samantha's best features. She tells her as such and receives a chuckle. "You'll feel them soon, I promise."

"You promise?" Ophelia grins. She laughs at the older woman's hard glare. "The last time I was drunk was on my 21st birthday. I ran away from the bar and found a fire station. Apparently, the firetruck drove me back home, I have a picture of me with them on my phone." She grabs her phone but it slips from her fumbling fingers. "Dang it."

The redhead picks up Ophelia's phone and puts it in her back pocket. She then takes the empty glass from her hand and sets it far away. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah." Ophelia decided to show her and stands up. "See?"

Samantha smiles encouragingly. "Awesome! Can you show me to the bathroom? I have to go."