Logan, Julia noticed, did have an avuncular presence to him, which made his heavy handed question both tolerable and maybe a little comforting. She raised the arch of one brow and even smiled a little, in a wordless really? She was also prepared to say something deflecting and sarcastic.
But ultimately didn’t.
“No, this is something else. It’s fine.” She shrugged. “Sometimes I get bad dreams. Which is preferable to the flashbacks, weirdly? I’m okay.”
It might have deflection. But part of her, at least, actually believed that. Like she’d been told by Our Lady Underground: Julia was a survivor. Things sucked but she had to believe it wouldn’t be that way forever. Eventually things would slowly feel less fucked. It was a belief keeping her sane. Julia took another large swallow from her glass, finishing it, which was the time the tremor just started to calm down.