& SAVTAJ SINGH → @sunkissvd !
location : fabrique bakery .
SHE RARELY PAYS ATTENTION to routines like this ; physically , camilla is queuing to grab her morning coffee — mentally , she's already sitting on her balcony with the newest vanity fair and the pieces for isabella's new dress spread around her . the shop , the music , the various jackets before her all blur together into one big , unimportant background . at least until the jacket at the counter next to her speaks up to order , and the voice sends her reeling . a voice she hasn't heard in over a year ; since a short phone call prompted by an even shorter resignation letter when she was already halfway to new york . she'd meant to stay in contact but — shit happened , and she's still dealing with the fallout , and she both wants to run away and throw herself at sav's back and not let go .
THE demon doesn't do either . her breathing stops till it's her turn to order and she notices there's no air for the words . an awkward cough delays the inevitable , but no , wait — camilla asks for her usual , and no head turns in her direction in surprise . her voice is a whole three notes higher , and she stands almost a foot taller , and her hair's a little blonder than it's supposed to be , and her face is not her own . ( there's no recognition to be had , here , and it rips open the old wound all over again . ) how do you greet someone you missed when the person they missed is no longer there ? trick question : you don't . you follow them as discreetly as possible , mulling over your words , hovering around corners like a bad pi ( she used to be good at this job , damn it ) to just try and glimpse why he's here , if he's okay — and figure out what in hell's name to say before she gets discovered .
