#conscixnceclean

"Well enough I suppose, yes."

Meg's smile is as infectious as Christine remembers it, and soon her own lips are curling into the kind of grin that felt more at home on the face of someone younger---a girl who had not yet known a world of mirrors and phantoms and heartbreak.

Christine's hands give Meg's a squeeze, determined not to let herself be overcome by such thoughts. Not now, when she has been reunited with her most cherished friend! No, she will allow nothing to ruin this moment.

"After---" her words catch, not wanting to speak aloud the events that surely they both remembered all too well. "---after we lost touch, I thought I would never see you again. And I certainly did not expect to see you here. It's been a wonderful surprise."

spring awakening sentence starters — accepting.

somewhere . . . it must be here somewhere! Erik does not look up from where he bends over his work desk, frantically shuffling papers, blueprints, manuscripts, scores. drafting pencils and dip pens alike are scattered in his search, and when a pot of ink overturns on an old design he swears loudly, lifting it from the mess. the current state of his workshop is entirely his own fault, which only serves to make him more frustrated. several days and nights he had been shut up in here, possessed by the idea of a new composition for her — he mustn't think it. it is self-indulgence merely, another dream to be brought into life and then shut away with the rest of his fantasies.

finally, he locates what his was looking for: a missing page of the score he'd been drafting. he opens the binder containing the rest of the pages and places it, almost reverently, among the others before closing them safely inside. only then does he raise his head and realize that he is not alone.

•  MEME  •  Late Nights Starters  •  accepting!

He spied her sitting at the bar during the opening number, and once that was over - once he’d worked the crowd a little before introducing the girls’ first number - he made his way over to her. He did so by walking straight down the stairs at stage right, weaving his way through the tables towards the bar with the smoke from his cigarette trailing behind him, red lips curving into a smirk as he felt the eyes of a handful of patrons following him rather than watching the dancing. He’d known that some of the newer faces would be wondering just who was being granted a personal greeting from their host, and who was he to deny them their curiosity?

[ to forget life ]

“Oh.” Well, that did explain it. Javert understood at a logical level that drink did this to a person, and it didn’t particularly surprise him that she of all people would get into such a fix. On the other hand, he couldn’t just leave her like this. Not in so public a place. It would constitute some sort of infraction. Sighing, he bent down and seized her shoulders, roughly trying to right her into a sitting position.

Have fun! <3

He’s lost track of how long he’s been hiding in the booth in the far corner of this place, now. He’s all blond hair and long limbs, pressed against the corner between the wall and the cheap, scuffed vinyl of the seat behind him, the stone cold dregs of a cup of black coffee on the table in front of him (the only thing he’s ordered). His guitar case is upright on the floor, leaning up against the seat of the chair and acting like a barricade between him and the rest of the world.

He only really realises that time has passed when he notices that the waitresses have changed shift, and he only notices that because the red-haired one he vaguely recognises from last time he was in here keeps shooting unimpressed glances his way.