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Catherine St. Giles ✩ Nyx (full_of_stars) wrote in paxletalelogs,

"Of course," she said, sitting near him and reaching out her hand for his phone. Tucking an errant lock of hair behind her ear, she held the phone in her hand, navigating it with relative ease. Curious by nature, the thought flitted across her mind to look through his contacts, see who he knew, what he did, how he lived, but something restrained her, despite how easy it would have been to do. Instead, she found the application for e-mail.

"As to your other question," she said with a slight, wry smile, "I suffer from a number of things, Elias. I find it prudent to keep a bottle of relief about just in case."

She smoothed out her dress and focused on him. He didn't talk much, but then under the circumstances, most wouldn't, she supposed. Once again, she found his presence oddly compelling, and wasn't quite sure why that was. Of course, he was handsome, but in Southern California, it was almost a requirement. Maybe it was the darkness of his looks, or the timbre of his voice, or his silence. Or his tone.

Something.

In any case, she shook it off -- it seemed like an odd train of thought, one best left to examine later. And so she said,

"And so, Elias, to whom shall I send this e-mail, and what shall it say?"