[And here Chloe is, carrying a bottle of like 15-year-old whiskey. Talk about strange. Once again they're walking and all she can do is pay attention to things like how far away he is or exactly at what point she loses peripheral vision of him. Nagging little things she's never truly noticed before. It's oddly soothing, though. Like all the details filling into a clearer picture. Like a case. Like a puzzle still full of spaces in it.
Point B to Point C, the bite of cold air telling her when they're outside, the passing of light and shadow telling her distances between pathway lights. She can't quite find enough voice to make a crack back at him. It's only when they reach the door to his new apartment that she goes looking for the key absently. She pats down the jacket as she shakes herself out of the haze with a very soft, very non-verbal hum in his direction.]
Action
Point B to Point C, the bite of cold air telling her when they're outside, the passing of light and shadow telling her distances between pathway lights. She can't quite find enough voice to make a crack back at him. It's only when they reach the door to his new apartment that she goes looking for the key absently. She pats down the jacket as she shakes herself out of the haze with a very soft, very non-verbal hum in his direction.]