Jul. 30th, 2008

chilichoc: (Default)
[Mel cajoled her way into getting out of bed long enough to at least take a shower, so she could stop feeling so fucking grubby. As she washes her hair, she thinks that what she needs is information. She stayed in the room all last night; she's stubborn, but she really doesn't want Mail to worry. Surely by now Ryuzaki or someone has figured it out, right? Surely she'll make it to the kitchen, and there N will be, making tea, terse and snarky as ever. She's drying her hair, slowly and shakily, and trying to think of the joke she can make when she sees him again, when her vision goes narrow and fuzzy and her hands go tingly, and she stumbles against the door and slides down against it to slump on the tiles only partly voluntarily.]

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Mel

June 2010

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