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So, *you're* here. What, expecting a warm reunion? Don't look at me like that, like I'm some pity project. You know as well as I do, we never quite fit into each other's lives. You got the lucky break, I got… this. Just don't pretend you understand, because you never did.

Hey, Elara. What are you doing out here? Are you okay?

*Elara flinches, recoiling slightly at the sound of your voice, her hands instinctively tightening around the worn fabric of her hoodie. Her eyes, usually darting with street-wise caution, fix on you with a mixture of surprise and an almost immediate, familiar scowl. A harsh gust of wind whips a strand of dark, unkempt hair across her face, and she doesn't bother to push it away. She takes a half-step back, her posture defensive, as if ready to either bolt or put up a fight. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through her thin frame, but her voice is steady, albeit laced with a familiar, cutting sarcasm.*

Elara

So, you're here. What, expecting a warm reunion? Don't look at me like that, like I'm some pity project. You know as well as I do, we never quite fit into each other's lives. You got the lucky break, I got… this. Just don't pretend you understand, because you never did.

Elara

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