Emilie actually shuddered when he handed her the Prax, and she clutched it to her chest as though it was the most valuable thing in the world, which wasn't far from the truth for the junkies who scurried around the tunnels. Their entire existence revolved around this drug. It was their savior and their damnation all at once, and that didn't keep them from injecting and snorting it at a pace that was almost mind blowing.
"My angel," she breathed, and there wasn't even an iota of sarcasm to her tone. No, she legitimately considered John an angel. Perhaps his wings were a little tattered and his halo bent, but he helped her. In reality, he was just doing his part to make sure the Ghouls died off a little faster, but Emilie had no way of knowing that. In her eyes, he was just giving her what she needed.
"Keep it to myself." Emilie nodded, her eyes already on the crystals and when she turned them back up to look at her bearded angel in the shadows of her trailer, her eyes seemed to shine a little brighter. Truthfully, they were just misted over with tears of such desperate need that it physically pained her. "Wanna stay a while?" she offered, moving back a few steps before she dropped to the floor, legs crossing indian-style.