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[sky_from_sea]

It's been awhile (months, at least) since Anna's holed up in vacant apartment buildings.

But--

Well.

Times being what they are, it's almost more comfortable than continuing to crash with Daniel. She didn't pay enough attention then. Obviously.

It came back to bite her in the ass. She knew it would.

And it would be easiest to leave, to run, to

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[wither_wilt]

Salla is making his way back from the docks for his latest cigarette pick up when he sees Anna.

...that's odd.

"Anna?" He calls out across an alleyway.

[sky_from_sea]

Anna whirls to face him, shotgun half-raised.

"Who--"

[wither_wilt]

"Whoa!"

He drops his package and throws up his hands.

"It's Solomon! Solomon! Cute guy that reads you poetry! You like me! I promise! You even let me dance with you, sometimes!"

To his credit, he doesn't duck behind anything and tries to look Anna directly in the eye. She's a bit far away, but he tries.

[sky_from_sea]

She goes still, poised.

Then, very slowly, she lowers the shotgun.

"Salla? Why are you--"

[wither_wilt]

He lowers his hands but still keeps his palms open and have clearly away from himself, where she can see.

"I meet a Canadian down at the docks once a month for my cigarettes." He pokes the carton in attempt to prove his point. "I was coming back."

"...are you...Anna, are you all right?"

[sky_from_sea]

The expression her mouth twists into is nothing like a smile.

"As all right as I've ever been."

Beat.

"Thank you for asking."

[wither_wilt]

"What is it? Are you hurt?"

He steps over his dropped carton and starts making his way toward her.

[sky_from_sea]

She startles when he moves, backing up a step.

"No. No. I'm fine."

[wither_wilt]

Okay, that plan didn't work. He stops and offers his hands, palm up, in a vague surrender.

"That's a lie."

[sky_from_sea]

None of her tension eases, but she stays where she is, wary and waiting.

"I'm having a bad week."

She can give him that, at least.

It's not hard to say, at all.

[wither_wilt]

He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets at that. This just isn't working. What to do, what to do?

"I'm getting that feeling."

"Is there...would you at least come out of the alleyway and let me give you something to eat? Or, something?"

Girls are not supposed to wander about alleys!

[sky_from_sea]

She stiffens, one foot shifting back again.

"Not someone?"

Her voice is very sharp, edgy and tight.

Some memories are far too close to the surface, lately.

[wither_wilt]

"No!" He's very quick with that. "No no. I don't. I don't do that. Hamsters are good. My cat likes them, too."

He quirks a bit a grin and tries for a laugh.

[sky_from_sea]

She stops trying to back away, her free hand coming up to her mouth, if only briefly.

"Oh. Good."

She still looks like she's only a moment from flight.

"All right. I could--thank you."

[wither_wilt]

He grins at her again.

"Good. Good."

Beat.

"Are you going to run away the instant I look away?"

[sky_from_sea]

One corner of her lip twists upward.

"No. Not--no."

Not now, at least.

She knows she needs to eat. And she won't go back to the Wasteland. Not yet.