Aug 31, 2009 16:12
Rachel sits primly on one of the couches in the Conrad basement's common room. Very still, hands folded in her lap, head slightly bowed. It's not that she's a particularly proper young lady--she tries, God knows, but she really doesn't often get it right, both by a lack of ability and a lack of wanting to be proper all the time. (That's no fun.)
She's doing her best to keep herself from fidgeting nervously while she waits. She agreed to meet Dr. Crane here, to talk. She really wants to do this, wants to become his patient, so she can start working to get her life back under control. It's just a scary prospect, and she's a bundle of nerves.
She unfolds and refolds her hands, fingers lacing between each other. She's more than ten minutes early. She was worried about being late so she left extra time to travel over here, even though her and Adrian's new apartment isn't all that far away. And then the trip didn't take long at all, so she's got time to kill.
She's still nursing a killer hangover, too. Her adventures in tequila consumption with Sark couldn't possibly have left her unscathed, but apart from being a bit quieter than usual, and a bit paler than usual, she's masking it well.
She masks most everything well, doesn't she?
rachel conway,
jonathan crane