Re: Quicklog: Ella/Marta
[If she were thinking, if she could do more than cling and feel, if if if, she would have reached for her bag, dug out the cash from tonight's shift, realized that it was still in the doorway where she'd dropped it, keys still in the lock. But all of that is beyond her, beyond even her ability to realize that she never crumbles this badly, not even when everything is going to shit. She can't realize that, though. All she can do is cling still to Ella, follow her shushing and her guidance like a small lost child.
She nods to the words, but she doesn't even see the cab driver, doesn't see the apartment as they enter. She goes where she's told and sits where she's shown, and when she does, her feet come up again, knees tucked close to her body, flexible enough to make it look easy. And young. So young. Once she sits, though her breath still hitches, the tears also start, slipping past lower lashes and along her cheeks where she ignores them. The makeup that so brightly advertized its waterproof qualities begins to smudge under her eyes, and she ignores it all, gaze lost across the room where she doesn't see Ella's apartment, but an expensive floor covered in red and a pair of unseeing green eyes.]