Don't let go: Joel Miller x OC

I chose you...

She just needs time to cool off; is what he told himself as he slammed the front door shut behind his retreating figure... They both did.

He exhaled a heavy breath, watching as its icy tendrils swirled up and around the front of his face. Not only had November brought him his past but it had also brought another winters season as light flakes of fluffy white gently floated through the air before settling onto the frozen ground. Joel knew this was only the start and the snow would now be a consistent pattern until the end of February at the very earliest.

He didn't particularly want to be out in this weather, the cold almost instantly seeping through his layers and settling within his bones. He'd much rather be on his couch with the fireplace burning away and a whisky in hand... Yet the only thing he seemed to be currently burning was his bridges with Ava...

He'd thought about turning back around and standing his ground. It was his house. His mind then thought back to the expression in her eyes as she shoved him towards the front door, the fire behind her pupils flaring up as if she wanted to murder him in cold blood. He wouldn't put it past her either as he recalled their first big fight  approaching three summers ago, when she had him held at gun point on her front porch... She knew where he kept his hand gun. It wasn't worth it. For someone so seemingly sweet ninety percent of the time, she sure could be a crazy bitch when provoked enough...

This evening, he'd just have to settle for a lonely beer at the Bison... and to the bar he went.

He scanned the room before heading over to the familiar pine wood surface. No familiar faces that were considered as relevant were currently sat present... good. At least he could brood quietly whilst drowning his burdens in some variation of alcoholic amber liquid. He's not quite sure why he opted for beer. It tasted like piss and did nothing to ease his current predicament, yet it's what his desperate hands reached for as he leant over the counter top to help himself. One after another he knocked them back and continued to do so for an undocumented amount of time, yet still the toxicity hadn't clouded his mind as much as he would have liked. Numb was his goal... He guessed he should have stuck with his usual whiskey if he really wanted to achieve that...

Perhaps it was for the best. He had already decided three pint glasses ago that after this he was going to at least make an attempt to go back home. He could feel it as he currently sat, the dull ache of his lower spine and the surrounding nerves twinging with each adjustment he made - the couch was never going to be viable as a long term option. After three sleep deprived nights, he wanted the comfort of his own bed. It would only end up in another screaming match if he traipsed back home pissed...

He had planned on remaining at the Tipsy Bison until he deemed it a suitable amount of time for Ava to calm the fuck down but that idea was soon dashed once the kiddie behind the bar had asked him why he had a face like a slapped ass. He didn't want to talk to anyone... let alone to the spotty barely-out-of-his- teens bar tender about why he was in such an abysmal mood.

He gave the nosey shit a hard look whilst downing the remainder of his beer and slamming the glass back down onto the wooden surface, the younger man wisely opting to take the hint and soon busying himself with wiping down some glasses ready for the next customer.

Joel's jaw clenched before dragging a stressed palm down over his face. The desire to continue drinking diminishing with each passing second as the present abundance of ingested alcohol settled heavy in his gut. It was cold and he was beyond tired. All he wanted was to see his daughter and then go to bed.

A wispy white layer covered the surrounding asphalt as he stepped outside, the gentle patter of snow continuing to fall at a consistent pace. There would be a sufficient blanket if it continued into first light.