Ostensibly, Daisy had dragged herself up 900 feet over the familiar streets and solid ground of New York City to wish Cassie a merry fucking Christmas. She still held a squishy, awkwardly wrapped and beginning to wear gift under her arm, not sure where was right to set it down despite juggling it all fucking afternoon while she took advantage of the free drinks. Free drinks wasn't something Daisy knew happened. She kind of fucking liked it up here in the sky. Nick had been holding out on her.
The huge, floor to ceiling windows that reminded Daisy how much it fucking sucked to live in a bunker were frosty this high up, and misty outside like they were actually in the clouds. They were cold to the touch, too, and Daisy's hand sighed a hot print on the glass that she hastily tried to rub off with her sleeve, the package under her arm crinkling noisily. Time for another drink. The jar in her hand was almost empty and that wasn't festive at all. Time, she thought, for something with cranberries or some fucking fancy shit. Meandering toward the industrial-sized, cloud-people kitchen, giving furniture and bodies wide berth to avoid collisions and only bouncing once off of the arch separating the rooms, was enough time to down the last of her beer to discard it for someone else to give a fuck about on the counter. Oh, eggnog, that was festive. Daisy was just searching for the right bottle to generously fill her glass when she locked eyes with the culprit of unknown origin. All she had to say on the matter was a hissed accusation of, "You," with narrowed eyes.