[attr="class","drea"]

[attr="class","drea b"]

[attr="class","drea i"]even if he didn't just what the fuck her right back, her features still would have twisted into their signature scowl.

"again," comes in a huff, arms crossing over her chest. a small bag at her wrist sways with the movement. "what. the. fuck?" did "dying" or whatever the hell actually happened make him hard of hearing or just stupid?

cue the eye roll, a single blue eye almost piercing when it returns to his figure. almost tiredly, she begins to scan his body. head to toe, toe to head. it's analytical, cloaked in indifference.

"you're seriously worried about stalking? really?" she flashes teeth, openly aggressive. and then, her voice is dropping to a hushed tone, her body shifting closer. "what happened? i read the report, you know."

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","drea"]

[attr="class","drea b"]

[attr="class","drea i"]his touch guides her, albeit paired with a warning dart of her eyes, out of the way of people and closer to the stores next to them. people continue to pass and her head tilts mildly to one side.

"right," she mutters. "teasing." there's a snark to her tone, as if he's forgotten how handy she can be with a scalpel. whatever possible homicide she's considering dies out when his voice lowers, when he ushers out what the reports had confirmed.

and then he's offering up coffee, reminiscent of their first meeting, and she's finding it hard to say no. blame it on curiosity, science, and not the strange relief of seeing him in one piece.

"fine," she relents and steps toward the direction he gestures, not bothering to wait for him. she does, however, call over her shoulder with something that could possibly be called a smile. "you're buying, though."

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","drea"]

[attr="class","drea b"]

[attr="class","drea i"]close proximity allows her to glance at him here and there. what she's searching for, however, she doesn't quite know. an inkling into what happened, maybe? scars, wounds, anything to prove he had been in death's clutches as the report said. and beneath the surface, something irritates her, burrowing beneath her skin and festering.

his mere presence beside her uproots majority of her beliefs in life and death.

she meets his gaze briefly, flashing her version of a small smile. it looks awkward, out of place on her features. as if her facial structure isn't made for smiling, isn't made for pleasantries.

"it's the same," she retorts. is that amusement laced between her syllables? she can't tell, doesn't even bother to. "how's life for you?" it's hesitant, almost because is it really life or something in between? uncertainty makes her squirm. she despises it.

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","drea"]

[attr="class","drea b"]

[attr="class","drea i"]oh. the comment catches her off guard, slipping past any defenses she has and weaseling beneath her skin. it brings a soft pink to her cheeks, half hidden on one side beneath the straps of an eye patch. distracting her enough for to fumble over words, her throat clearing awkwardly in an attempt to brush off any lingering fluster.

she leaves the compliment alone, instead plucking apart his answer.

"congratulations," she murmurs. "are you busier now with the new title?" good, pleasantries are good. idle chit-chat feels normal, natural, as if they're merely catching up after a week or two of not crossing paths. it's been longer, she knows, but it's nice to talk to someone that's living and not hidden beneath a white sheet.

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","drea"]

[attr="class","drea b"]

[attr="class","drea i"]"good," she murmurs. there's a small quirk to her lips, as if she's almost happy for him. realistically, she is, but there's mild worry knowing what work includes for him. the field is a vastly different place than her morgue. where he sees the action, she sees the aftermath. "don't overwork yourself."

the cafe is cute, comfortable, quaint. there's a cozy atmosphere to it, one that alleviates some tension in her shoulders.

"you remember?" she turns a curious eye to him, fighting the urge to smile. "that was a long time ago, you know." maybe she's changed? no, she hasn't. she's still the same caffeine addict and you'll have to take that same coffee order from her cold, dead hands.

LANCE VOLLANS

[attr="class","drea"]

[attr="class","drea b"]

[attr="class","drea i"]it's something so small, so unimportant in the grand scheme of life. and yet, it elicits a soft choking noise from the back of her throat. surprise settles for a fleeting moment and then it's gone, swallowed up by cozy lights and ambient chatter. she doesn't bother touching on it, doesn't bother releasing the urge to ask why that sits so heavy on the tip of her tongue. instead, she allows the hint of a smile to ghost her lips.

"i do," she murmurs, lifting her coffee to her lips. she doesn't sip yet, instead scrutinizing him over the brim. analyzing for hints, micro-expressions that she's barely trained to recognize. and perhaps, she's mostly just waiting for a proper answer. somehow, some way, she almost trusts him to not breathe out a lie.

LANCE VOLLANS