"I guess that's how it's gonna be in Florida,"
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Saylor Mcray hasn't been in a stable condition or relationship since she ended things with her girlfriend of two years. She kisses person after person, but her body continues to crave the one thing th...
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Saylor
A small motel room, smelling strongly of Miss Dior and dust. A single bed, made up and ready for sleep. Two pairs of shoes sitting by the door. A pang of something unsettling ricocheted against Saylor's chest as she glanced at the washing up by the sink. Why did it hurt her so badly to see Audrey's dirty dishes?
It made everything feel real. After the argument, Audrey disappeared and went on living; life didn't stop once she'd left Saylor's eye line. And that felt weird. Why had she even come?
Saylor took a seat at the little dining table, fiddling with her manicure. "What did you want to talk about?" she asked softly, wishing her auto-pilot mode could awaken on command. "Us," Audrey said blatantly, setting down two glasses of water on the table. "I can't keep taking photos of you, but I need this job,"
Saylor took a moment to process Audrey's words. "Are you asking me to quit?" "I don't even know what I'm asking you," Audrey ran a hand through her bangs, pushing them out of her face. "I don't know what to do about this, but I do know that I miss you, Saylor,"
Frozen; it seemed Winter had come very suddenly and very early. Saylor didn't know what to say, for what was there to say to a statement like that?
"I miss you too," she whispered. "But we can't do this," "I've changed, Say," "But I haven't," "I didn't need you to change," "But I did,"
Audrey sighed, bouncing her leg. "Whatever, Say," she finally said. "This is pointless,"
