(no subject)

She spends a lot of time curled up on the couch, staring at nothing. She's swaddled in blankets, the AC cranked up so that she can wear one of Darlington's sweaters, swaddled in it, her hair scraped back from her face and Kirby sprawled half in her lap, her fingers pressed into his fur. She sleeps a lot. She wants to cry but she just feels hollowed out and brittle. Darlington is still here a lot. They talk. Gradually, it feels like they're working something out.

She just doesn't know what it is yet.

Mostly, she ignores texts, but when Caleb reaches out again, she finally cracks.

Come over, she texts. I'm at home.