future imaginations [c]

"it just..." her voice trails off, half drowned by conversation and her own heart. she breathes like she's sighing. "nevermind." she says instead, quickly, quietly.

the order sits nicely on a tray, and emily takes it quickly, forces herself not to look back to check if kiira is following when she finds them a place to sit. she's lucky; a corner seat, warm and cosy.

the tray sits first, then herself, dropping carefully like a petal from a dying flower, she thinks, as she tries to smooth out imaginary creases from her dress.

KIIRA SUNDT