Room 422, Sunday Afternoon

[nobloodymessiah]

So, Eleanor had had some rather important conversations on Friday, and was feeling better as a result. Not great just yet, but better than she had been. It was progress.

Soleil was curled up at her feet, and she was starting a new book -- Big Brother. It was interesting to compare and contrast dystopias -- how they differed, and how they were

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[not_called_icky]

Ichabod felt fairly certain that Eleanor would not be opposed to a plan he had been considering for a while, and he was also sure that she would be able to help. This was the reason he was now knocking on her door, hoping Celia wouldn't notice him.

[nobloodymessiah]

"Come in," Eleanor called, stashing her book to the side. Wait, was it Joker? She ought to get up and help with the door, if it was, so she stood up hesitantly, just in case.

[not_called_icky]

Ichabod opened the door slowly. "Miss Eleanor? I hope I am not interrupting."

[nobloodymessiah]

"Ichabod," Eleanor said, wondering if she should have used an honorific. Ought he be Mr. Ichabod? She didn't remember his surname, to use that, instead.

She shook her head to clear the web of tangled thoughts. "Come in," she said. "You aren't interrupting. I was reading, that's all."