just a weavaspella drabble

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"I want you to hold me" Castaspella had said slurring her words, her cheeks a deep red that matched the shade of wine she had been drinking so perfectly Shadow Weaver had entertained the idea that if she gave her different mixtures her cheeks would shift to match. might try that later. Her cheeks were red not of embarrassment as Shadow weaver had previously hoped, "not a nervous drunk are you?" she chuckled into Castaspella's hair.

How this had happened was anyone's guess but she didn't complain. She's just confused. Castaspella burrowed deeper into her embrace humming softly as she did so. She'll regret this when she sobers up. and still, Shadow weaver didn't mind it, the illusion of affection in this situation was comforting. if you asked Castaspella there was no such illusion. 

She had taken to drinking again for the first time since Micah's 'death', she couldn't resist the allure of escaping all of those memories, painful memories.

She had taken to drinking again after finding Shadow weaver's stash and giving in to her old ways. 

Now Shadow weaver held her, guilt? remorse? she wasn't sure why perhaps it was the image of Casta in her mind the first time she found her slumped alone next to a half-empty crate of wine. Shadow weaver's wine. that night she was only referred to as Light spinner, and since then it had become common.

Casta would sneak away, get drunk, and pass out in Shado- Light spinner's cold arms.

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