Quicklog, Marvel: Cris / Elena
[Teresa was asleep, head on Cris' shoulder (with her hat pulled down low, almost down to her eyebrows), when he knocked on Elena's front door just under 20 minutes after her last text. He was wide awake, Yankees hoodie zipped up, no coat or gloves, one hand stroking at the loose black silk of his daughter's hair. A too-small backpack over his shoulder, the keys still in the car, headlights flooding around his feet in the gray snow, he waited absolutely impatiently for Elena to answer the door.]