do i even dare? i just have to do it.

[lucked]

There's a problem that Claire's come across lately. Which is, namely, that there are only so many times she can bake cupcakes before all of it feels kind of repetitive and no longer serves as a decent distraction from all of her problems. She's had a few of them lately. As comforting as it's been to talk to certain people, like Mary Jane, Claire can't help but think about it all, that nightmare she shared about a month ago, where she scared someone enough that the woman kept on shooting. Bullets searing through her shoulder time and time again, only for skin and muscle to start weaving right back together, good as new. Baking just keeps her in the kitchen, the sort of area where so much has happened in the past. Washing her injured hand under running water. Watching her broken fingers repair themselves after being run through the trash disposal. Blood tripping onto the floor, hands burning after pulling a tray of cupcakes out.

It's just a little too much of a reminder of her previous life and general lack of caring, neither of which apply entirely anymore. So today, instead of using up some of the rarer items in the pantry, Claire sits at the kitchen counter with a coloring book nabbed from the bookshelf (The Little Mermaid, fancy that) and filling it in with completely unfitting colors. That keeps it from being too much like cheating.

When she hears footsteps approaching, she continues coloring, keeping her ears open for any hint of a voice that might help her know who it is. Hopefully a friend.