Thump, thump, thump… “Whoops!”
The noises outside Mandy’s door, and the knocks were quickly followed by the sound of a body sliding down her front door and Ichabod came to a halt finally leaning heavily against the thin piece of wood. He gave a quiet giggle to himself, running a hand through his spiky hair. He wasn’t sure what the time was, but he guessed it was a little past midnight, he’d been drinking steadily since a few hours before nightfall and then headed out to Risk. Bad mistake.
His left eye was swollen and red, there was a cut across his nose which already had a bump in it from a bad break a few years earlier, but his glasses were perched precariously on the end of his nose. He’d had to resort to them, there was no way he was putting in contacts with his eye like this, but fortunately he\'d had his glasses with him.
Ichabod hadn’t been doing well since picking up his stuff from Kerr’s apartment. He had left the key on the kitchen counter where the vampire would easily be able to find it, but apart from that had left no sign that he had ever even been there at all. He’d actually started drinking that day after booking into a hotel, his mini bar had taken a big hit that night, but at least people hadn’t been asking him how old he was or he wouldn’t have been able to retreat to the drunken stupor that helped him forget. It had been almost a week since he had left Kerr’s for good, a week since he’d last seen Mandy and decided he never wanted to see her again. But somehow he’d found himself here after being chucked out of Risk for picking a fight with a groupie (and his friends who had all appeared from no where) and he was pissed off. They had interrupted what had been looking like a good night, a vampire had fed from him and had appeared to be interested in more when Ichabod had accidentally knocked into someone’s drink, spilling it and getting him into trouble he hadn’t wanted. He\'d been kicked out on his ass into the streets and told him not to come back unless it was with someone who could control him.
In the scuffle Ichabod had lost his room key for the hotel (as well as his contact) and didn’t want to turn up in this state to ask for another. They were already giving him disapproving looks, he didn’t want them to have an excuse to chuck them out.
This was almost his last resort. Ichabod had stood outside Kerr’s apartment building for half an hour, then decided not to go in. He couldn’t stand having Kerr see him like this and he doubted that the vampire would be too happy about it either. Then he had gone to the house he had shared with Lazarus, but, as Kerr had told him, there was no sign of life there and he didn’t want to spend the night there. Alone. Staying in the hotel alone had been bad enough, but in a bed where he had spent so much time with Lazarus? No way. Home really wasn’t an option, not in this state and so he’d ended up here. And besides, she had offered him a place to stay, kind of. He’d been too angry to really listen to what she was saying.
So now he was slumped with his back against her front door, an unlit cigarette dangling between his fingers and a bottle of Jack Daniels sat on the floor beside him, which he took another gulp from before struggling with his lighter, trying to light his cigarette, but failing miserably, as as soon as he produced a flame he dropped the cigarette with surprise. He’d even almost forgotten that he had even knocked on her door, he’d just thought this was a comfortable place to sit for a while. After all, a dry floor was better than the pavement.
