"Rockwell, open that fucking door or I swear I'm gonna break it!" Katie yelled, punching the door of Azure's apartment with her fists, making as much noise as humanly possible.
Much to her dismay, the door remained stubbornly closed, unmoved by Katie's furious onslaught. She could feel her frustration bubbling to the surface, her anger simmering just beneath the thin veneer of control as she pounded on the unyielding wood with all her might.
"Damn it, Azure, open up!" Katie shouted again, her voice raw with emotion as she continued to batter the door with her fists. She didn't care about the noise, didn't care about the neighbors who might be disturbed by her outburst. All she cared about was getting through to Azure, and making sure she was okay.
Make sure she wasn't...
She pounded on the door again and again, then, when she realized no one would answer her, she stepped back.
Her sleeves up, she squared her shoulders, focusing her gaze on the door, her foot connecting with a resounding thud as she aimed for the lock. She felt a jolt of pain shoot through her leg as the impact reverberated through her body, but she ignored it, channeling her frustration into each blow as she hammered away at the unyielding barrier between her and Azure.
After several attempts, the lock finally gave way with a satisfying click, the door swinging open with a creak of protest as Katie stumbled into the darkened apartment beyond. She blinked against the sudden onslaught of light, her eyes adjusting to the dim interior as she scanned the room for any sign of Azure's presence.
"Azure?" Katie called out, her voice echoing in the empty apartment as she cautiously made her way further inside. She could feel the tension in the air, the palpable sense of unease that hung heavy in the air.
A groan coming from the kitchen made Katie's heart skip a beat, her footsteps quickening as she hurried toward the source of the sound. She found Azure sprawled on the floor, her phone lying forgotten next to her, the screen illuminated with a message that sent a pang of panic coursing through Katie's chest.
"Jesus, Azure, are you okay?" Katie asked, her voice laced with concern as she knelt beside her teammate, her hands hovering uncertainly over Azure's prone form. She could see the empty bottle of rum lying nearby, its contents spilled across the floor in a puddle of amber liquid.
Azure groaned again, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated as she struggled to sit up, her head spinning with dizziness and nausea. She could feel the bile rising in her throat, the sour taste of alcohol lingering on her tongue as she fought to keep her stomach from rebelling once more.
"Ffuck... Gabby..." Azure muttered, her words slurred and barely coherent as she
reached out a trembling hand toward Katie. Her eyes were unfocused, glazed over with a mixture of pain and confusion as she tried to make sense of the world spinning around her.
Katie's heart clenched at the mention of Gabriella's name.
She knew how deeply Azure's loss had affected her, could see the pain etched into every line of her face as she struggled to come to terms with the gaping hole that Gabriella's absence had left in her heart. But as much as Katie wanted to comfort Azure, to offer her solace in her time of need, she knew that words alone would never be enough to heal the wounds that ran so deep.
Without hesitation, Katie sat down and pulled Azure's head against her stomach, making her lay down between her legs, holding her close as she whispered words of reassurance and comfort. She could feel Azure's body trembling against her own, could hear the raggedness of her breath as she clung to Katie with raw desperation.
"It's okay, Azure," Katie murmured, her voice soft yet steady as she rocked her teammate back and forth in her arms. "I'm here. You're not alone."
For a moment, Azure simply melted into Katie's embrace, her walls crumbling in the face of Katie's unwavering support. She could feel the warmth of Katie's body pressed against her own, could hear the steady rhythm of her heartbeat echoing in the darkness.
