Rose kept herself flopped against the window. The rest of the drive proceeded in awkward silence until the cab pulled up outside her apartment building, a not-unpleasant looking townhouse with faded, peeling red paint. She got out, paid, unlocked the door and held it open for Lucie to go in first.
The moment the door clicked shut behind them, she was hurrying up the stairs, twirling her keys in her fingers awkwardly. Her apartment was on the second floor...nominally, there was a lift, but it was broken so often she'd given up trying with it. All she actually wanted was to get inside and locked in so that Lucie could say whatever she'd come to say and then (please) go away.
The door opened onto a narrow hallway, which gave way to the living room. A small grey tabby, notch-eared and scarfaced, wandered up the moment they entered, winding itself around her legs. She threw her keys on the cluttered coffee table and picked him up. On the stereo, a big black tom hissed at the interloper, standing up to stare Lucie down. Rose flopped onto the beaten-up sofa, cat on her lap, and picked up the stereo remote. The sudden blare of music made the black cat leap off the stereo and onto the windowsill, looking even more irritated.
"Why are you actually here?" Rose asked, confident that the music would drown out her words to most listeners. "You've been AWOL for fucking years. Is it about this flu shit?"