➳    THE BLOOD IS SOAKING THROUGH THE SLEEVE
             of her shirt, and she knows that peeling it off her body
              is going to h u r t. she’ll burn that bridge when       she
              crosses it, though. fingers curl, shrinking back into the
              sleeve of her jacket as she forces her lips into   a smile.

                            ❝Sorry, what was that? I was ──
                             zoning out a bit.❞

              she hopes her voice is steady and her words convincing,
              because a giant gash on her arm and the      bow tucked
              into an old guitar case is a little          difficult to explain.
              

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            Eyes narrowed in the darkness, seeing no 
            features; only a silhouette, outlined by the
            street lamps outside. 

            Her shot was steady, her grip relaxed, but
            her mind was wired, spinning. Aim leveled
            with the intruder’s leg—she won’t be shooting
            to kill; not yet—she drew in a slow breath.

                          “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing
                           in my apartment?”

            There was no shake in her voice; deceptive calm
             settling over her features.  

                        

Slender fingers wrapped around a warm mug, eyes
scouring the coffee shop for an empty table, she weaves
through the crowd. Deftly, silently–ribbon slicing through 
air. It’s warm, heat radiating from bodies like plumes of
smoke, or perhaps more like latte-scented steam. 

               No vacancy.

Lips quirk to one side, and a slightly irritated sigh
escapes her. Lydia draws to the table she favours,
the one by the window. It’s occupied, but drink in
hand, she has little choice. 

             "—Hi.“

Her grin is apologetic, and she’s thrumming ner-
vously as her eyes sweep over the person taking
up her usual spot. 
   
            "I was wondering if that seat is occupied.” She motions
             to the empty chair across from them. “Every other tab-
             le is full so…”

            Eyes narrowed in the darkness, seeing no 
            features; only a silhouette, outlined by the
            street lamps outside. 

            Her shot was steady, her grip relaxed, but
            her mind was wired, spinning. Aim leveled
            with the intruder’s leg–she won’t be shooting
            to kill; not yet–she drew in a slow breath.

                          “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing
                           in my apartment?”

            There was no shake in her voice; deceptive calm
             settling over her features.