#leyla002

Billie had to wonder if the boredom setting in was a part of the interrogation process. Not that there was a need for interrogation; she was convicted, now, a bona fide criminal with a record. And she knew, in theory, that she'd be released as soon as she was allowed, but still. An entire week trapped in a confined space wasn't particularly enjoyable. Which... it wasn't supposed to be. She knew that. She was arrested and a criminal, and this was a punishment. That changed very little, though. Billie was laying on the little cot on her bed, and, really, she'd slept in worse places. That wasn't the problem. She'd already counted all of the imperfections in the ceiling, on the walls, on the floor. She was busy recounting when she heard someone call out that she had a visitor, causing her to sit up. "Oh!" she said, mildly surprised but not in an upset kind of way. "Hi."

As promised, Jace had picked a slightly intoxicated Leyla up from the location she’d given. Was it surprising that she had text him of all people? Or more surprising that he wasn’t drunk and unable to drive considering it was 1am? “Alright, scoot, you’ve almost made it....” A gentle hand on the back of her hip that guided her inside. Just on the chance she decided to take a stumble, the hand was there to pull her back upright. Without another word he walked his way to the kitchen to put down the food that he’d picked up for her on the way. From what he recalls, it’s something she enjoys tucking into after a couple drinks -- even though honestly, he had noted that she wasn’t actually drunk, not like he’d been imagining she was when she painted the picture of herself alone in a dark street, but he didn’t mind. He’d always prefer her to call for a ride home than have her wandering alone, a thought that makes him scoff lightly to himself now he knows her true nature. 

“Ok, you’re home, do you plan on staying in here or do I need to chain your door shut to stop you wandering out there on a ghost walk?” A little joke in reference to her zombie-banshee walks towards dead bodies. Maybe a little inappropriate but hey, it was just his dark humour. It was also maybe a subconscious effort to figure out if she wanted him to leave, or stay. Jace was ready to go, only because he didn’t want to invade her space. A friend would probably stay without a thought, but that’s not what they were, right? Not really. They were in that awkward place between exes and... whatever the hell came before any sort of friendship that wasn’t going to be tainted by the past. It made him tip-toe around, careful not to overstep any metaphorical boundary that isn’t supposed to be crossed. And yet, he can’t help but ask the nagging question he’d had on the tip of his tongue for the entire car ride. “Are you ok, Leyls?” What Jace meant was that, the Leyla he knew didn’t usually drink mid-week without a reason, nor did she typically reach out to him of all people... He was concerned, especially with the weight that came from knowing everything he wasn’t supposed to know.