SEND ‘NO FILTER’ FOR RECEIVER’S MUSE TO TALK ABOUT SENDER’S MUSE COMPLETELY UNFILTERED. // prompt.

“So, what’s the story with Scarlet?”   Fuck. Right to the point as always, Kurzfeld. Even though she’s aware of how observant her superior is, it could be annoying at times. Like this specific moment. She wasn’t particularly keen on even thinking about Scarlet right now. Just a glass of Stoli and a cigarette. Side-eyeing the man who had calmly lowered the newspaper and his gaze peering over the rims of his glasses at the agent. She almost glared him down but suspected it would be pointless to do so. 

“What about her?” Here goes the first attempt... answering the question with a question in a tone void of the caring nature as she peeled off her coat, threw it over the backrest of her seat and dropped down in it. When the waitress approached their table, she ordered the usual and nothing else. Wasn’t even hungry either. 

“Oh, you know... the woman you first started out with---” Lorraine cut him off with a stare and nearly snapped. “Kurzfeld, I don’t want to-” 

“You nearly fucked up the last job. Your head’s been in the clouds lately, Lorraine.”  She tensed at the use of her first name. At the tone behind it, more specifically. She couldn’t even retort to that, because he’s fucking right. With every possible evasion options gone, she surrendered--- eyes falling shut and she slowly rolled her head from side to side, before back. A deep inhale. Flashes of Scarlet’s attractive smile passing across her mind’s eye inevitably. 

Lorraine just... laughed. Almost defeatedly.

“Shit. What the hell can I say?” She sighed out and let her head fall forward, chin touching her chest as she kneaded a knot at the crook of her neck. Her hand then falls to her lap and she lifts her head once more, but not to look at Kurzfeld. Instead, staring out the window off to their left.  “What’s to say, really... about unexpectedly seeing the first woman you’ve fallen head over heels for, just walk back into your life like nothing ever happened?” 

Another chuckle, a bitter one.  “My heart already broke when I eventually realized she didn’t feel anything more than friends and co-workers towards me. Even though I knew I had to become detached for the sake of our jobs... she just rips my feelings right back out from the deepest pit of me where I had sworn I’d locked them away safely.” 

God, the pining. She’d never forget all the restless nights--- tossing and turning in bed. Thinking about that woman and eyes that could pierce her soul with one stare. 

“When I found out she was pregnant, I finally let go of my feelings and let the pain numb me. So I could focus on my job easier. Even though I still offered support for her and her kid. They became like a family to me. They were everything to me--” A pause upon a realization. She never let go of those feelings. They were just dormant all this time. “They are everything to me.” She corrected herself. 

Finally, the waitress had returned with Kurzfeld’s lunch and a glass of her Stoli. She could sense Kurzfeld’s compassionate gaze fixed on her and KNEW what he was going to say before he said: “Well, there you go. Doesn’t it feel better? To vent? With that said, I suggest you see a therapist. Or... you know, talk it out with her. Tell her what you just told me.” 

The  one  whole  step  sideways  Carol  took  to  walk  around  Jennifer  didn’t  even  seem  to  matter.    It’s  not  that  she’s  purposefully  avoiding  Jennifer,   her  mind  was  just  elsewhere  so  she  wasn’t  particularly  in  the  mood  for  starting  up  a  conversation.   It  wasn’t  even  really  on  what  Jennifer  just  brought  up.   It’s  an  army  of  different  things -    but  that  always  is  in  the  back  of  her  mind.   The  mental  image  of  it,   at  least.    The  hurt  of  feeling  your  best  friend  go  limp  and  lifeless  in  your  arms  really  doesn’t  go  away.    The  fact  it  was   HER  FAULT   ,    doesn’t  make  it  any  better.    Nothing  can  really  make  it  better.  

Carol  just  reaches  up  her  hand,   pushes  it  through  her  hair,  tousles  her  own  hair.    Then  she  lets  out  a  sigh.    She  doesn’t  even  move  the  strand  of  hair  that  falls  into  her  eye.    Just  leaves  it.