Re: log: dylan & max
She set the strawberry shake glass on the table after a few long sips. She was sobering, and it was making her tired and lulled. She wasn't worrying about anything yet. No concerns about the bright light overhead and what it did to her laugh lines, and no awkwardness about the way she was leaning against his arm. A little clearer, sure, but in a warm and sleepy way that was still instilled with boozy confidence.
"We moved all over so much that nowhere is home. I don't care where I live," she admitted. She was born in Louisiana, but Army bases didn't really count as cities in states. They were these things apart, and she didn't have any love of geography. Home could be the desert or the dead of winter; she just didn't care. "Where's Walden Pond?" she asked, entirely serious and a curious look in his direction. But Bali got a grin, and it was a genuine one. "I could handle a beach. Not for long, but for a few days. I wonder how quickly sunning gets old." She'd never had the kind of life that allowed for leisurely vacations. Maybe she should add it to the bucket list.