Duplicity IC Contact

I suppose if you've reached this message I'm not around to accept your contact.
So, you can just leave it here, and I'll be sure to contact you back as soon as I can.
[ It's not until she's been here a couple days she gets up the nerve to text him. She's had his network handle since day one, this York doesn't know and maybe it's selfish not to lay it all out, but... it came in useful, for now. He had no reason not to give it to her.
She's not really sure what she's waiting for. Does she want to see if he sees the post the others did and come to her first? Maybe. But after a while it becomes clear he hasn't, or if he has he isn't responding on purpose. Does it feel too much like violating their agreement from back on the rig, to message him first? Also maybe, but she doesn't even know if this is that him. So all there is to do is bite the bullet.
It still takes her an hour to actually send the message even once she decides to do it, sat on her bed in her apartment—nice, but too quiet after sharing space with people for so long back on the rig. A whole hour of writing, deleting, re-writing, then just... staring, until she finally hits send. ]
so are you like, deliberately ignoring my existence, or are you predictably the only one of the team who somehow didn't see me waving freelancer's name around on the network
[ She spends the entire time steeling herself, because no matter what, this isn't going to be easy. God, and she thought their first reunion was messy...
But she's been pacing by the door since she buzzed him into the building, so none of the hesitation shows when she opens it before his fist's actually off the surface.
She stares at him. Just— stares, for a few seconds, then finds herself pulling him into a hug before she even consciously makes the choice to. ]
[ The horrid thing is that it's him hugging her back like this, clinging to her as desperately as she's clinging to him, that starts to make it settle in that something's different. That this isn't the North she left behind.
Her fists ball tighter in his clothes and she buries the thought for a little while longer. She just— she needs this. ]
I— we should probably— actually get inside.
[ But she doesn't let go. ]
Oh— shush, asshole.
[ There's no venom, even comes with a little laugh under her breath at her own expensive. She buries her face a little deeper into his shoulder and breathes deep, steeling herself to actually let go. The last time she let him go was...
She gives him as tight a squeeze as she can, then finally lets go, pulling back to look him in the face. ]
[ She exhales, finally nods and steps back so he can follow her in. Once he's inside she shuts the door, takes another breath, then leads him through to the sitting area. ]
I barely know what the fuck to do with this place. Like— ugh, not complaining, I got the better end of the stick here, but it's just so...
[ She gestures vaguely. She's hardly used to nice, fancy living. ]
Sure fuckin' is. Couldn't be fucking further from it, really.
[ She sits down right next to him, rather than on one of the other seats. She wants to stick close, for now. ]
Watch me fuckin'— break something in a week just trying to do some basic housework.
Oh, no, not even the fuckin' knick-knacks. I'm gonna try do the dishes or something and break the faucet, somehow, just watch.
[ There's things they need to talk about. She knows there are. But this— this is the most normal conversation she's had with him in months. ]
[ She snorts a little laugh, bumps him with her shoulder. ]
Y'know I was trying to drag myself there, but sure, let's blame their stupid expensive tastes anyway.
[ She pulls her legs up onto the chair, leans against his side. Casual closeness like she hasn't really leant into in years, no matter whose perspective you're looking from. ]
...I'd say I'm glad you're here, but that feels so fucking wrong to say in a place like this.
[ She swallows, nods instead of speaking at first. She scrunches her eyes shut, breathes in, breathes out. ]
Yeah. I know. I don't think either of us are about to get the answer we expect, though.
[ He let her hug him. He's letting her lean against him. There's no way he's from the rig. ]
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