action; closed [ C.C. has spent the past day or so in a bit of a sulk. She'll admit that. The trick played by the wardens had caused trouble for more than just herself; wallowing in her own upset is selfish. Surely, discovering the depth of Marianne and Charles' self-absorption had been worse than a day of fuzzy memories. (Hadn't it?) And she had been able to set it aside to move forward.
Though, back then, there had been somewhere to go. A plan to follow. Something to occupy her. Not so much, here.
She's been sitting at the beach for much of the evening, into the night. She'll go back to the apartment eventually, just... not yet. ]