Somehow, the shouting barely registered at first. In the depths of an argument with Meg, James was hardly perceptive to the milling strangers on the street. Her pale mouth was drawn in a curt, unsatisfied line, but it melted into an expression of wonder and even disbelief when her name carried through the air in a familiar voice.
"Lotte?" She turned, a quick pivot on bare feet just as Lotte collided against her with open arms. James caught her in the embrace and was actually stunned into silence for a long moment, just accepting the hug as if afraid it would prove to be nothing but a dream or hallucination. Meg prattled on excitedly about how Christine and herself should be allowed to go play or talk now, and James fiercely told her to shutthefuckup for just five seconds, please.
Peeling back, James examined her friend for any sign of tears or injury. "How long have you been here? Have you been alright?" James, herself, looked revived; aside from appearing a little wane, with heavy shadows of exhaustion pooling beneath her eyes, she seemed healthy in her nurse's garments.