[attr="class","spiral"]Klara is practically frantic as she does her best to do inventory before she leaves. Mug in one shaking hand? Check. Book and notepad constantly trying to slip out of the other? Check. The handkerchief goes momentarily forgotten on the counter -- still stained and stinking of wine from when she was dabbing at her soaked pantleg. A voice in her head telling her to fucking run makes it hard to remember such a small detail.

That same voice makes it hard to hear Alecto's voice. She doesn't hear her name when the other woman says it, and only thanks to a paranoid look to check the Sableye is still where she last saw it does she notice Alecto is speaking at all. Klara's eyes dart about her shoulders rather than watching her lips or reading her face. Where the fuck is the Sableye.

"It is gone". She's been looking for the thing for a few seconds before the words fully register in Klara's mind. Instant relief hits her at the realization, but along with the relief comes a flood of other emotions. Embarrassment, exhaustion, nausea. Her body is drenched in sweat. Her tank-top sticks to her chest and her eye stings from a steady drip of salty droplets.

With her hands full there's no way for her to respond or apologize or make excuses. Klara bites at her bottom lip hard and her eye looks anywhere but at Alecto for a moment before she just kind of nods at nothing. The Sableye is gone, but it took the mood with it. Klara can't say she's really up for a drink and a chat anymore.

Still not looking at Alecto she throws up a half-wave using the hand stuffed with her book and notepad and then just . . . walks off. She doesn't know what else to do.