"That's silly," Ellie told him with certainty. "Are you really sorry for them all?"
Apologies were funny things. She could never understand why people thought they owed them when they hadn't done a thing at all. I'm sorry for this, sorry for that. And yet she sometimes found the same syllables coming out of her own mouth, like a programmed code.
"Of course you're not... Not a bad guy," she went on, closing her eyes for a second time. The night was darker like this, even with the faint glow of the screen, the stars, the guard's lanterns. It was nice.
She felt tired, like always -- but a different tired tonight, a combination of the drink and something heavier, a weighing against her chest. "This is... The world. How things are. What... What does someone have to say to you, to make things better?"
Of course there wasn't anything, was there?
Ellie opened one eye, catching his in a sleepy glance. "It's all you, Detective."
I'll never fall in love for real, she thought idly, watching him reach for the laptop. What was he doing, anyway? It seemed like another thing that didn't matter, when everything felt so soft and insubstantial. Moments like this made Ellie remember why she drank in the first place.