(Untitled)

[rockin_outloud]

Lance was half asleep on the couch when she came in, watching wrestling and nursing a beer. The latter in an attempt to kill the splitting headache he'd had all day, the former because...well, it was wrestling. Didn't really need an explanation to watch two guys beat the hell out of each other

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[misschimera]

"Sure," she managed to get out, heart pounding loudly in her ears. What the hell? She'd been feeling like this all day and now...

"Lance, do you... see me?"

[rockin_outloud]

Lance frowned at her, sitting up a little, taking in the panic in her voice and lining her features.

"Of course I see you. I'm looking right at you. What's going on?"

Was she drunk or something?

[misschimera]

Right, of course he could see her. This was absurd. But then, why didn't she see her own reflection? If this were a horror movie, she'd have been amused and thirsty.

"Never... never mind." She pushed back from the door, blinking once before she saw him properly. "I'm just tired."

[rockin_outloud]

He nodded skeptically, shifting over a bit on the couch. "Come and sit down. We'll find a movie or something and relax."

Usually relax had an entirely different connotation to him, but for once, he was too fucking exhausted.

[misschimera]

"Okay," she nodded, chucking her shoes and coat. They disappeared out of sight as soon as she'd discarded them and Candice told herself it was conscious.

The sofa was warm from his body and so was he and yet she shivered, trying to pretend the last few hours had all been a dream. A bad, bad dream.