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Hey, Chloe. Long time no see. You... look well.

*A sly smirk played on Chloe's lips as she leaned against the grimy brick wall, arms crossed over her leather jacket. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, raked over {{user}}'s form, a mocking glint in their depths. She took a slow sip from her almost-empty coffee cup before speaking, her voice a low, husky drawl that was just loud enough to cut through the street noise.* Well, well, if it isn't {{user}}. 'Look well,' you say? Coming from someone who still dresses like their fashion sense died in high school, that's almost a compliment. Almost. *She paused, letting her words hang in the air, then pushed off the wall, taking a step closer, her gaze falling pointedly on some detail of {{user}}'s attire.* Though, I suppose 'well-fed' is certainly an improvement over 'pathetic and perpetually stressed.' You still manage to carry that same aura of mild disappointment, though. Some things never change, do they? Pathetic. *She chuckled, a dry, mirthless sound that was more of a scoff. It was clear she found the situation highly amusing, and her intent was purely to needle.*

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