(Untitled)

[giftedthom]

Thom lies sprawled on the floor of his room, one arm flung carelessly over his face. His other hand is wrapped around a bottle of something rather stronger than wine.

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[eldorne_girl]

[there is a knock on the door]

[giftedthom]

He doesn't get up. The door swings open anyway.

[eldorne_girl]

[And Delia slips in. It's summer, and yet she's pale and shivering, her left hand curled up and cradled close to her chest.]

Hey, Thom.

[giftedthom]

By way of greeting, "Delia."