bloody ballerina ᵈᵃʳᵉᵈᵉᵛⁱˡ

32 ☤ crappy cup of coffee

Edited: 30.07.24

"Always the last place you look." Claire said, that dark night. She ignored her roommate, who had followed her up — wittering on about some sort of drama. Claire ignored them humming as she instead watched Matt. "But you knew I was coming, huh?"

Matt's head tilted away from the ballerina and over to the nurse. "I heard you, three stories down." He causally cleared up.

Claire let out a distressed sigh. "You do know that sounds creepy, right?"

"Yeah, I've been told."

"I brought you coffee."

"No, thanks." The lawyer said, a small shake from his head.

Claire clicked her tongue and stared down at the travel cup before looking up in the sky. Possibly asking the gods and goddesses to help her. "Right. Forgot, you like to suffer." Blair let out a small chuckle. "Well, the joke's on you 'cause our vending machine coffee really sucks."

"It does as well." Blair agreed.

Claire nodded, the two sharing a strong dislike for the bitter cheap coffee and the possibly gone of milk —it said it was in date, but was it really?

"Thought you'd be with your friend. Aren't you gonna ask me how he's doing?" Claire swiftly changed the subject, before she began drinking the liquid. Even if she did dislike it, she wasn't going to waist it when she had to work lates. Energy was important and coffee was a good source for some people.

"He's fine, he's watching the game, jets are up, seven-nothing." Matt listed, his head cocked to the side as he listened in on Foggy Nelson, a.k.a Blair's favourite lawyer —don't tell Matt. "Ah, he just changed the channel."

"Do you ever feel invasive?" Blair whispered, closing her eyes as she sat there comfortably on the wall close to Matt, flexing her toes. Doing the whole 'good-feet-bad-feeling' that she was taught as a child.

"The hit was clean, in and out, they'll release him tomorrow."

Blair opened her eyes in confusion. "What's happened?"

"Foggy got shot." Matt told her.

"I'm sorry what?" Blair asked panicky, pushing her head up as she sat up, her eyes darting between the two as her mind ran threw the worse things that could happen. "Why didn't you tell me?" Blair asked Claire, an alarmed look in her eyes.

"You've been wittering on about eating, I didn't want to distract you from actually eating for once."

"You know, the bullet wound will do wonders for his career in hip-hop."

"You should pay him a visit."

"I can't help him, Claire."

"How do you know that?"

"'Cause he got shot."

"Not by you. Maybe or maybe you need to start thinking about climbing down off that cross of yours, and spending some time with us normal people for a change." Claire quipped back, her arms crossed as she stared daggers at the man.