#todd:winter001

His neck cracks with how fast he double takes. It’s stupid, thinking he recognises the back of her head, how her hair falls down her back, but there’s that sinking feeling in his gut, the same one as every time he thinks he hears her laugh in the distance, watches a girl’s nose wrinkle, and he’s chasing her out the theatre before he can question himself. He’d arrived late, found his seat in the dark— Had they been sitting twenty foot from each other for the past two hours?

She makes a quick exit, hurried, pauses outside as if she can finally breathe. Maybe she’d seen him. Regardless, she’s about to. “Winter?”