Re: Guest Room Hallway, Fourth Floor
She stepped out of the light of the doorway almost immediately.
It wasn't exactly like seeing a ghost, and it wasn't exactly like the past catching up with her, though it was both of those things, really. Oh, he was different, but it was definitely him. She dreamed of those eyes every night, and they haunted her in a way that had never stopped, never gotten better. If anything, it had gotten worse the further she'd gotten from the choice she'd made all those years ago. Well, not a choice really, a frightened reaction, but one she couldn't take back then, and that she certainly couldn't take back now. But she'd hoped, during all those long years, that things had gone better for him with her gone. She didn't need to hear the biting sarcasm in his voice to realize that hadn't happened. It was like a dousing of cold water, the realization that the one good thing she'd been counting on for the past half decade hadn't happened.
She stepped further into the shadows, away from the door, arms crossed over the expensive fabric of her dress. She just shook her head at the suggestion that she try to go in, though Selina very much wanted to. Only Luke's hissed voice made her snap back to the present, and though she kept herself safely (possibly obviously) out of the light, she couldn't help but be concerned. "Don't do what?" she asked, though she had a good idea. There was something distant and controlled about the voice that had suggested she try the door. Luke, she now knew, was not distant or controlled. "It's her apartment," she answered, more openly than she would have minutes earlier; she couldn't help it, and Selina just smugly uh, huhed in her head. "Are you going to open yours, or don't you want me to see what's inside?" she asked knowingly. Vigilantes. It just had to be vigilantes. She took a very deep, very shaken breath, and she felt like she might shatter into a million pieces, but she couldn't, not there, not in front of him.
"The key," she added a moment later, and it was a request. She didn't want to actually get near the door, but her key was still in the lock, where she couldn't reach it without getting in the light. Against her better judgment, her voice softened slightly. "You live in Las Vegas?" she looked down at the inexpensive shoes on his feet, and she wondered what had happened, she wondered why. It didn't make sense to her; he shouldn't be here, and he shouldn't be here dressed like that.