private audio → action.
[ he's hilarious. it's hilarious because it's true; it was hard. with or without him, it was going to be hard. crappy, survived, always: check, check, check.
she happens to round the last bend of steps during the message. she's on his floor and down the hall from him by the end of it.
maybe it's the question, maybe it's seeing him, maybe it's the mixture of the two. she sucks in a quiet breath, one hand still lingering at the wall, and looks at him.
(she's still frustrated by this, and her feelings. suddenly the frustration and annoyance she's been experiencing while thinking about him feels in part like something else. what it is, partially. aching. longing. whatever. for damon. what even.)
she exhales and starts forward in no actual rush. isn't sure if she will stop or what she wills: to hit him, hit him twice, kiss him, yell at him, let it all out. she ends up grabbing his face and launching herself into him, her mouth caught against his cheek, her arms encircling his neck. she doesn't want anything; just to be close. ] Shut up. [ dummy. it's nearly a whisper, and it's a non-answer. ]