If that's what it takes to sail you home [private conversation]

[chilichoc]

*Mel sits on the window seat with her arms wrapped around her knees, looking out at fake-Winchester. She moved all of Mail's things into the closet, because seeing them made her too unhappy. She's not sure if she's gone numb out of self-preservation or if she's simply too tired to feel anything

Comments

[lady_assistant]

Click click click click. Her signature stilettos are noisier than usual as she strolls through the hallways-- how she manages to make the clicking noise is anybody's guess, since the floor is carpeted, not tiled.

Her first job in months-- she looks rather bored, as usual, but her voice is sickly sweet. She gives Mel a grin to match.

Yes, Mellie?

[chilichoc]

*Be specific, she thinks. Specific, and as polite as you can stand. But she's a rope that's fraying, and she doesn't know how long she can keep from snapping.*

Mail. My Mail. Where is he?

[lady_assistant]

She places one hand on her hip as the other raises so she can examine her fingernails.

Oh, I wouldn't know. I thought you would know, considering that nasty, no-good bond you two made.

She gasps, exaggerating a surprised look.

Oh no, Mellie, did you lose him?

[chilichoc]

*She grits her teeth, but she keeps her voice steady.*

You must've sent him. You know he's gone. *Oh, this one's hard to say.* ...Please. Tell me when he's coming back.