galar-sobble -> poison-luv

He spends a lot of his time waiting in the dark corners of rooms. He is used to the darkness now, and likes the way it swallows him and makes him one with the walls. He admires the structure of oblique absence. He pushes themselves off the wall that he’s been leaning on, and lights a cigarette, the motion too quick to reveal his face. And now only the red embers glowing at the end are perceptible in the dark. But the moonlight form the window illuminates his legs, the light glinting off his new brogues. 

She didn’t like how the cafes faced the street. Something about that made her back feel exposed. Perhaps if she was meeting someone form the other side it would be helpful. But now she would have preferred to have been face to face with her ally, them watching her back, her watching their’s. She pretended to sip her coffee, hoping Klara would arrive soon so she could actually begin her drink without feeling rude. By the time the young woman arrived Lena’s coffee would be cold and she knew that there was no way she’d get the waiter’s attention again.