an unexpected visit
HANNAH: “Did you ever consider leaving?” She pointed out the more reasonable option, rather than breaking into her apartment and proving, her again, that he had no issues committing criminal activity. At the mention of the lamp, her eyes glanced at the object, having forgotten its existence in her hand entirely. “I might,” She retorted, but ultimately set the item on the nearest surface.
She was floored, completely taken by surprise, as she hadn’t heard from him in months and, really, didn’t think she would ever again. While Hannah knew that he loved her, she also thought she’d made it pretty damn clear that she never wanted to see him again. She was done with him, done with letting him crawl back into her life and earn forgiveness. It was exhausting.
“What part of leave me alone didn’t communicate well?” Hannah asked, her tone full of sarcasm and frustration.
Her eyes settled on the bottle of wine in front of him and she gave him a fake grin. “Well, at least you were smart enough to bring wine.” Grabbing the bottle and a cork screw, she wasted no time in popping the bottle open, and purposely grabbed a single wine glass from the cabinet to fill.
JEFF: Months. That was how long it had been since he had seen her last. How long he's been moving around from place to place in an attempt to evade the hand of justice trying to clench its fingers round his throat. He could feel it still, the shadow hovering above him, the feigned fingers bringing goosebumps to his neck without ever touching him. It was exhausting. It escaped his memories just how terribly exhausting it was to not feel safe, to not know where the night would have you end. And the last time he had felt that safety was with Hannah. Could you blame a dying man for wanting one last whiff of true freedom?
"It crossed my mind," he said with a crooked smile, one corner inching up for a fleeting moment before easing back into its usual relaxed line, a confidence he no longer felt as intimately as he did before. "I appreciate it," he smiled as she set the lamp down, a breath of relief fleeing silently through his nostrils.
"You know I never come to visit without bearing gifts," he chided, almost offended that she'd think he'd show up without a bottle of something fine, or a box of delicacies he knew she had a weakness for. Those were easier to come by before, however, when the police didn't know his routine all too well like they do now. "I've been keeping my distance a while now, haven't I? Though, not entirely out of respect for your wishes as much as it was for mere survival." The admittance came easy, even though he knew it made him sound bad. By now, nothing could ever make him sound good, but she still hadn't called the cops on him, he insisted to himself as he watched her grab a single glass for herself. Fair enough.














