Libby was up, poking at the buttons on the side of the flatscreen that was mounted over the mantelplace in her room, because her remote was being finicky. Not ideal. She made a mental note to grab some batteries on her way home from work tomorrow, before she headed out for the evening with the Hale siblings. Hearing the back door softly creak open, followed by Sean's voice, she smiled. Of course he would, like, announce himself. It struck her as gentlemanly. Knowing herself, how easily jumpy she can get, especially after already having succeeded in scaring herself silly by her Netflix choices tonight, it was a thoughtful thing to do, whether he realized it or not.
She flounced out of her room and poked her head out into the kitchen. "Hey! You made it," she said, beaming.
Even though he said he'd changed his mind about coming over, whatever his reasons behind it, his initial reluctance had Libby thinking he may change it back. She was a little curious about his hesitation. She knew he was on the reclusive side. After almost two months of living in Beacon Hills, Sean was still the only member of the Walcott family that she's met, despite them living right down the street. She'd glimpsed someone who looked like a slightly older version of Sean smoking a cigarette on the front steeps when she's gone on her jog around the cul-de-sac. After that last time in the woods, she was doing her best to stick to paved streets for her evening runs. That must be the brother Sean mentioned in his text earlier. Not that a few passing glimpses of a person was anything to base anything on, but his dark stare had followed her every time she jogged by and she had the distinct, strange impression that he didn't like her very much, although she couldn't imagine why. He didn't know her from Eve. Then again, it sounded like he had in a hand in changing Sean's mind tonight, so Libby really couldn't figure it out his deal.
The kitchen was bathed in shadows. She'd left the overhead light off, the only source of light pouring forth from the open bedroom door behind her. She came forth and noticed his attire. She chuckled softly, looking down at herself, dressed in kind for bed. She instantly felt less awkward at remaining in sleep shorts and tank top to go with it, appropriately emblazoned with the text 'I NEED COFFEE,' a typical motto for her daily life.
Right then, the microwave dinged. She went over to retrieve the mug of hot chocolate she had been heating inside for herself. "You want anything?" she offered. Not wanting to assume whether he wanted to have anything to eat or drink at this hour, so rather than setting up anything and risk making him feel pressured to accept out of politeness, she left it open to him to decide freely. "You said you're not a fan of popcorn, but I have other snacks. And to drink I have water, maybe three kinds of juice, beer, coffee..." She usually made a fresh pot, classic drip style, in the morning, but she also had K Cups on hand to pop into the Keurig for when she just wanted the one cup fast on hand. "...and maybe a bottle of whiskey kicking around here somewhere."