Girls Like U

Quit actin' like a baby, or at least less like a child
Give me serenity, or at least just peace of mind
Give me closure, or at least a phone call
Give me forever for a while, give me forever for a while

Life was boring and life was endless and there was no point to anything. Anya made it through her days with a lot of sarcasm and some alcohol, really. Not too much, sloppy drunk people didn't make for good de Lis girls, but otherwise she let herself take a few sips throughout the day. Sometimes Jules came over, to complain or hide or whatever, and he paid for her time and she pretended to be sympathetic. He was a kid, really, and she considered him a friend. Probably a friend. She listened to him, friends did that, she could have just pretended to but she actually did it. There was Brandt, sometimes, but he was really busy with whatsherface and Anya was often working. There were her regulars, and half of them were fine and the other half weren't. There was Ad, who worked himself to the bone and didn't know what the word 'relaxing' meant, and there was Nathalie who managed the whole House, and there was Cyril. The youngest Fowler was both better and worse lately, trapped in his own circular way of thinking, really, which stopped him from letting himself truly give in to what made him happy. It was ironic that she was the one with a clear sight of what was wrong with him when he was the one studying psychology, but whatever. It was her cynicism that made her eyes clear, made her see things more clearly. She could see that things weren't going well for her. There was that itch under her skin, that need and yearning that there hadn't been before. After all, she had been resigned to her fate, to her emptiness. That... wasn't so anymore, but that didn't mean that it was her naturally and organically getting over her admittedly severe depression.

It wasn't Ilana either, though she'd seen her a few times since their first meeting. The woman was fine. Beautiful, smart, kind. Anya liked her, there was just very little inside her and she couldn't feel too much. If she could, she would have. At least tried, probably. She'd never much cared for anyone but her brother, she wasn't free enough to, just far too busy. Had never felt the urge to be with anyone. Not really. Didn't feel it now either, but she didn't feel the urge to do anything at all, not even breathe. Mostly. That wasn't quite true, really, because sometimes- sometimes Lord Lestrange came back, and though she wouldn't say that she was in any way fond of him or that he didn't terrify him... the bright yellow potion came with him. It made her feel, he always shared. The warmth, the comfort, some sort of joy or happiness that she thought she had just lost forever. It was better than feeling pain, though she also accepted that when she got it. Anything was better than the emptiness, the silence, the numbness.

Being in the Serpent didn't help, she tended to think. The place was dark and desolated and most days nobody managed to get inside. Most days in which she had a shift, she would just show up and sit behind the counter and... sometimes she would watch the clock's hands move. Other times she would just do some shelving, though the merchandise wasn't often renewed. Mostly she'd bring one of her books and read, or pick some book from the shelves and spend her time on that. Most of the books in there weren't to her taste, so she tried to avoid it all. The dark arts weren't her thing, though she was very familiar with many people who did appreciate them. Today she just... leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the door to open.