[ Her world spins and shakes, legs wobbling in comparison to Marc's steady stance. Her nails dig into his sleeves to ease the vague panic of falling, forgetting about the phone because Marc is a step ahead β he has it in his hands and relief falls at her feet. Colors her cheeks a pleasant, almost hot to the touch, pink.
He's real and alive and holding her hands, phone wedged between but she's not paying it much attention (if she did, she'd see the texts from Esther, the ones from Meg urging her to reply to Esther because it's getting awkward without her there).
People are complaining about the random ass couple crouching in the middle of the sidewalk but Lottie doesn't care. It feels like they're sharing a secret down here, with her achy knees and his rough (warm) hands on her. She stares at him, smiling, a little dopey. Quiet. Wondering if she can get him to carry her inside the bar and wondering when it was last he put chapstick on. And thenβ ]
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He's real and alive and holding her hands, phone wedged between but she's not paying it much attention (if she did, she'd see the texts from Esther, the ones from Meg urging her to reply to Esther because it's getting awkward without her there).
People are complaining about the random ass couple crouching in the middle of the sidewalk but Lottie doesn't care. It feels like they're sharing a secret down here, with her achy knees and his rough (warm) hands on her. She stares at him, smiling, a little dopey. Quiet. Wondering if she can get him to carry her inside the bar and wondering when it was last he put chapstick on. And thenβ ]
..What's Marc's favorite color??