And there he was, towering like the giant that he was. Her face sours, brows furrowing, lips pressed into a sharp line. Her gaze is scrutinizing, ticked around his face before her attention veered to the clothes that he wore - loud and vibrant. She leans off to one side, a frilly umbrella keeping her upright and steady.
"First of all, fuck you." She plucks the cigarette from her mouth, pinched between two fingers, and used it to point at him. "Secondly, how the fuck are you even here?" Last she remembered was hauling his ass on her shoulders. It was a curious thing, Sweeney being here, solid and alive.
Laura moves closer to him, quickly closing the gap between the two. Her gaze is sharp and accusing like he was responsible for her misfortunes - which, well, he is.