LadyJayLake
(Fully fictional, babe - pure fantasy fun. No real-world claims. Just vibes and chaos.)
i did another story, yes i am meant to be packing, but when it comes to you, it comes to you-it's like a creative surge that hits you when you least expect it, or perhaps, when you most need a distraction from the dull reality of taping boxes and labelling their contents. The muses, it seems, have no respect for moving schedules.-----Lady Jay, Two Minutes Later
The air in her small, currently-chaotic house was thick with the scent of cardboard and a faint, sweet overlay of the peach schnapps she'd poured for a quick 'packing break.' A single ice cube was already melting lazily in the glass, a beacon of temporary surrender on the otherwise neat coaster.
Lady Jay leaned against the doorframe of her half-empty living room, the wood cool against her bare shoulder. She was tired. Bone-deep tired. She'd been on her feet all day, battling boxes, tape dispensers, and the existential dread of relocating. Every single muscle, from the arch of her foot to the tension knot in her neck, was aching in a chorus of complaint. She flexed her toes, wincing slightly.
She took a slow, deliberate sip of the schnapps, the sickly-sweet, warm liquid a comforting burn in her throat. Just five more minutes, she promised her increasingly impatient inner voice.
Her phone, precariously balanced on a stack of books that were definitely not packed yet, suddenly buzzed and lit up the dim room. A small, persistent rectangle of light against the gloom.
Without lowering the glass or even shifting her gaze from the half-packed kitchen, she extended a finger and tapped the notification icon on the lock screen. A purely automatic reflex, a mindless gesture born of habit. She didn't look at who it was from or what it was about. It was just a tap.
The screen loaded.
The casual, weary sigh she had been holding was prepared to release.
But it didn't.