#c:xinyue

Xinyue had never been anything but pleasant to Polly - the problem was, Polly had long been wary of pleasant. Pleasant people had welcomed them with smiles, only to burn them with sinister intent, to put them at an even bigger disadvantage. Xinyue had not done that yet, but there was still a chance she would, and Polly eyed her with caution. It wasn’t personal, not really, but something ingrained so deeply in them that they weren’t sure how to let go of it. 

“I’m sure this isn’t what you planned for your evening,” they cleared her throat, offering a tentative smile - a peace offering of sorts. “What would you normally be doing around now?” They cupped her face in her hands, leaning forward on the table, offering Xinyue her attention.

Polly rapped on the door, hand trembling. It wasn’t the prospect of seeing Xinyue that worried them. They had been like this all day, the news that came like a bolt from the blue hitting them hard and addling their nerves. Still, despite the shock and violence of what had happened, life went on. London moved as normal, albeit with a sombre undertone to the normal proceedings. And for Polly, that meant business as usual. 

It was one of her usual errands. On a Sunday, she collected the things Xinyue would need, always the same objects. Candles from the wax-maker, fresh food, and a bit of fish for the cat. It was a path Polly was well used to by now, ducking around to the back of shops mandated by law to remain closed on a day of rest, before making the journey to the woman’s home. 

“Here you go,” Polly handed Xinyue the small package of goods, wrapped in brown paper and tied in string. “Sorry I’m a little later than usual. It’s chaos out today.”