Who: Charlotte Karsten & Samuel Jessop What: Lotte and Sam decide to de-anon after thinking they might not know each other. Where: The coffee shop down the street When: After this Warnings: Lotte's paranoid? Probably mentioning the recently deceased? Editted as needed. Notes: None of you saw the earlier fail. >.>
Sitting at a table near the coffee shop door, Lotte was certain that this was the most idiotic idea she’d ever had. Worse than telling people about the voices – worse than trying out for the sixth grade production. This, had to be it.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to trust her email partner. Far from it. It was just impossible to believe. Things like that didn’t happen in reality – right? People’s imagination went wild. Frankenstein was a good enough example of the dead being brought back to life – so were vampires.
It wasn’t real and it wasn’t a part of reality. Therefore, whoever it had been she was emailing, was crazy.
And considering what she’d been called, she meant it as truthfully as possible.
Biting her lip, Lotte scanned the coffee shop again. Even if she’d notified James, this was stupid. It was either Cole – or someone crazy. Someone who might do something horrible, carry her off, drug her, put her in a near death state, and then come and finish the job…
She shuddered and not because the door to the coffee shop was opened. She shouldn’t have come, it was dangerous. No matter what precautions she’d set up.
Lotte pulled out her cell phone. She had half a mind to send constant texts to James – anyone, just for proof later on. But she couldn’t help the voice that thought she was overreacting, like she had years before. Was this crazy on her end?
She didn’t know and frankly, that scared her more than anything else. She shivered in her seat, slipping the cell phone back into her pocket and reaching for her tea. At least, she could appear normal.
Sam almost didn't go. At this point, though, he didn't much care what happened to him. Even if the other person was feigning sympathy and they planned on turning him into the police or getting him sent to an asylum, did it really matter? The only person who would miss him would be Cole, and Cole was the only reason he wasn't already gone. He wouldn't seek out destruction or arrest, but if it did happen, he was pretty sure Cole would be better off for it, whether he thought so or not.
And if none of those things happened, maybe he'd just have someone to talk to.
He walked into the coffee shop wearing a dark blue button down shirt and carrying a black messenger bag over his shoulder. He ordered a coffee and waited by the counter, trying to look casual as he scanned the place.
His eyes didn't linger on Lotte until he noticed the bag at her feet. His eyes snapped up and away immediately. He recognized her in the same moment--he'd seen her around the building before.
He got his coffee and doctored it with cream and sugar, trying to decide whether he'd actually walk over. He'd come this far, though. No turning back now. If he'd recognized her as a tenant, she would have recognized him, and the shirt and bag would be too much of a coincidence to dismiss.
He walked over to her table, standing beside the chair, fighting the urge to bite his lip.
"Hi."
She froze at the voice, before turning towards him. She focussed on the blue shirt - closer to eye-level and the hanging bag. It was him. Gulping and looking up, she saw a face that definitely wasn't Cole. She thought she'd seen him in the building before - but maybe it was her fear. It was hard to tell, for how much her hands were now shaking.
"Hey," she managed. She cleared her throat, looking away for a moment. "You came like you said."
"I did," he said, standing there awkwardly holding his coffee and watching her. Her hands were shaking. Was he that terrifying? Were the things he'd told her that off-putting?
"I--um--I'm Sam," he said, sitting down across from her with a hint of reluctance. Already he felt like maybe he should just go. She looked like she might fall over in a dead faint if he made any sudden moves.
Swallowing one more time, she looked at him. Forcing herself to do it was difficult, but not as hard as other things. Her paranoia of what he thought of her, was enough to drive her.
"I'm Lotte," she said. "You're - you're not who I thought you were." For some reason, it was relieving that Cole was normal. At least, not in the raising-the-dead-or-believing-them-to-be-raising-the-dead-kind-of-way.
"Oh?" he asked, relieved that her first comment wasn't more like 'so you like dead chicks, huh?' "Who did you think I was?" He took a sip of his coffee, like the caffeine would steady his nerves and not just make them worse.
She clutched her tea, still intent on him. "The friend I was with - Cole, from the eighth floor?" It crossed her mind, belatedly that that possibly wasn't the greatest of ideas. "He doesn't know anything - no one does. I didn't tell."
Sam came so very close to saying something, then cut that thought off. The last thing he needed was for Cole to be linked to him and everything that had happened to Jude, even if Lotte wasn't the sort of person who would tell anyone. "Oh," he said. "He's--yeah, he's an old friend, but no. I'm just me."
He shook his head. "I didn't think you did," he said. A short, truncated laugh, maybe a little bitter. "Nobody would believe you." A pause. "I'm surprised you believe me." If she even did. He liked to think she did, though, even if she was just humoring him.
There was a shaky smile. She didn't think someone who knew Cole could be as bad, even if she doubted earlier. There was something so normal about him. "Well, it is nice to meet you," Lotte said. It was only half of a lie.
Her shaky smile, suddenly spread into something put-on. "Someone's got to," she said. "Right?" She sipped her tea as a distraction.