A/N: Why do I keep writing about Susan... And I think I took the prompt a little bit away from what it was intended to be; ah well.
Prompt: "After a while, the residents of the sea do not hear the sound of the waves. How bitter it is, the story of routine." ~ Unknown
Dress. Shop. Party. Sleep.
That was how it had always been for Susan.
Even in Narnia, she'd gotten dressed each day, served their subjects, attended or planned banquets and parties, then slept.
In Narnia, she had never been bored with it. There was something new, something joyful in every day.
But now, back in England, her siblings watched as she faded. Her soul's death seemed to accelerate each night she came back, exhausted and smelling of alcohol.
She had tried to stay herself when they first returned— but now she didn't seem to care at all.
It broke all of their hearts.