Log, pizza reunion?: Jason T & MJ W
[Outside, it was cold. The wind sent red hair into a tumult, curls spinning in snowy air as MJ slumped against the Osborn mansion, it sturdy in its old, deep foundations, like a man's hand in his pocket clutching his coins. She wept openly and without performance, meaning it wasn't a pretty sight, but she was alone and she didn't care. She crumpled inward, face in her hands, snot and tears pooling and slicking palms.The icy wind should have cut through her and her measly sweater, as it already had her skirts flapping above her knees, but she didn't feel it.
The tips of her fingers were cold-pink, and she fumbled, after a moment, for her phone, which she had stuck, securely, in the stovepipe of her boot. But the frigidity made her clumsy, and she ended up leaning against the house, with one leg partially up, swearing and crying and feeling very, very sad, for herself and for Harry.] Fucking—thing—[She hissed through clenched teeth, tasting her own tears as her hair stuck to her wet cheeks.] I hate you! [In the end, she was too frustrated and upset, and she gave up. Opting instead to crouch with her back to the mansion and her head in her arms, curled in on herself against the wind.]