demonbelthazor | South Attic, very early Saturday morning

After drinking himself into a stupor at Caritas after saying goodbye to Angel, Bel shimmered back to the South Attic. Unfortunately, being exceptionally drunk, he appeared about three inches above the floor and went sprawling to the carpet. He lay there for a long moment, waiting for Phoebe. The noise surely would've awoken her. But the attic was dark and quiet. Phoebe wasn't there.

He staggered to the bedroom, yanking open drawers and tossing the contents on the floor until he found what he was looking for: the snowglobe he'd stolen from Angel months before. He'd been meaning to give it back and didn't know why he was still holding on to it. Too late now.

He raised his arm to throw the snowglobe against the wall but stopped himself just before the orb left his hand. Sinking back down to the floor, his back against the bed, he stared at the snowglobe cradled in his hands. Phoebe wasn't here. His best friend had left. Hell, even Lindsey was gone. Not since he was a child in the Underworld had he ever felt this alone.