Emilie wasn't a good person, not anymore, but there was something about Clover that tugged at what very few heartstrings she had left. Maybe it was because Emilie could see herself in the redhead; she could see the agony and the loneliness, the need to escape with the only thing that could help. Were it anyone else, Emilie might have told them to leave until they had something to give her, but not Clover.
"Shh," she urged, low and surprisingly comforting, and she reached a pale, delicate, and bruised hand outward to gingerly push some stray strands of red behind Clover's ear. Emilie had done lots of terrible things to get a fix, most of them immoral and even humiliating, but she wouldn't demand anything so unbecoming of Clover.
This time.
"Stay with me," Emilie finally said, and there was no hiding the sharp ache of sadness in her words. Emilie had never been alone, not really, and Ezra's absence was already tearing her apart at the seams. She had no one now. Even Sparrow was gone. She'd gone to try and find him, and his train car was completely abandoned. She was a queen without a king. Hell, she was a queen without a kingdom.
She was well aware how pathetic a request it was, but that didn't seem to deter her. "Tonight. Stay. We'll keep each other warm." Unlike so many other dealers, Emilie didn't plan on taking her payment in sexual favors. She was being literal. She simply wanted someone to keep her warm, to ease the pain of her other half being gone.
"We'll fall together, but you have to stay here tonight."
Was it even night? It was impossible to tell down here.