#faolan 07

@faolanmeadowes​

It’s hot. A few months ago, Fiona might’ve begged for weather like this, when she was prone to chills and wearing many layers. But now, standing in her living room and frowning at the air conditioner that refuses to work, sweat running down her back and bruises and few cuts aching various limbs, she’s... well, Fiona is cranky. Truly cranky, down to hands on her hips and huffing. As if glaring at the air conditioner will do anything. Finally, she cranks up a fan, hoping it will ward off the humidity some – and then nearly smacks her head on a shelf straightening up. Not because of general clumsiness this time around, but because of the pounding knock on her door. After yesterday’s events, it’s enough to make her hands tremble, and Fiona grabs the nearest plausible defensive item (in this case, a bird statue) before approaching the door. Looking through the peephole, she sighs in relief so loudly she’s sure her uncle can hear it on the other side. Not a threat – but he still looks worried, so she throws the door open quickly. “Faolan! You scared me,” the girl laughs, then her expression wavers some. “Oh, no.” They’d bumped their weekend tea to today, a Monday. Which was already strange, apparently, and then... “I missed tea. I forgot. Oh man, I forgot...” She’s immediately sorry and is a split second from launching into apologies when she feels her uncle’s traveling gaze and remembers just what she looks like. And she’s wearing a tank top, thanks to the heat, so there’s no hiding anything. “...Shit.” Fiona bites her lip only to wince from it, forgetting she’d done the same thing whilst falling yesterday and promptly split it. “Um, I-I can explain.”