[She turns over, groggy, face slightly swollen, bruises now showing on her arms and shoulders as she shifts beneath the sheets. It's slower than usual, but she finally registers that he's there. One eye peeped open, she seems to blink at half-speed--she went to bed maybe an hour and a half ago--unable to focus on him.]
Died again?
[It's the raspy voice of the over-indulgent, roughed up by late alcohol and early cigarettes.]
So it would seem. [He reaches out to run light fingers down her cheek to her jaw.] And you look like you came close. What have you been up to, my dear?
I was investigating that new town, and it seems I overstayed my welcome. But, as I was not particularly welcome here, either, it seemed as good a use of my time as any. [He doesn't pull back his hand.] ...did you wish me to go?
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Died again?
[It's the raspy voice of the over-indulgent, roughed up by late alcohol and early cigarettes.]
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[A reluctant silence. She's not so composed at the moment.] And you?
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