[ She doesn't drink in mourning. Not typically, not enough to have an established order. When the server greets her shortly after slipping into the seat across from Lorca, her mind reaches for the last drink she shared with Philippa. In no time at all, a glass of red wine is set before her.
Had Lorca gone to Patch's instead, he might have found her by coincidence. Wrapped around the delicate stem of her glass, Michael's knuckles are the raw red of torn skin. She drinks quietly, allowing the loaded silence to stretch on, growing heavier with each passing minute.
It was thoughtful of him to invite her here. That's the truth she has been struggling against since his first message. Not just what it says about him but how it reflects back on her. The walk over cleared her head enough to see it. ]
I left you alone with this before, when it was Christine. [ She has to speak around a knot in her throat, unmistakable. ] I'm sorry for that.
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Date: 2026-02-01 01:45 pm (UTC)Had Lorca gone to Patch's instead, he might have found her by coincidence. Wrapped around the delicate stem of her glass, Michael's knuckles are the raw red of torn skin. She drinks quietly, allowing the loaded silence to stretch on, growing heavier with each passing minute.
It was thoughtful of him to invite her here. That's the truth she has been struggling against since his first message. Not just what it says about him but how it reflects back on her. The walk over cleared her head enough to see it. ]
I left you alone with this before, when it was Christine. [ She has to speak around a knot in her throat, unmistakable. ] I'm sorry for that.