Clara tilted her head, watching Maeve carefully before she just nodded her head, wetting her lower lip and drawing it between her teeth as she sorted through the emphasis on that word and the confusion and awkwardness and… everything else that came with it. She took a slow breath and focused on feeling calm, letting that feeling seep out of her.
“Well,” she started, “ain’t no one perfect, Maeve. And friends fight sometimes.” She didn’t move to touch the other woman, though she wanted to, so her hands flexed at her sides before she just leaned against the bar, too, in a mirrored position to Maeve. “Y’think you need to apologise or was it not that kinda fight?”