Sparrow drums her nails impatiently against her desk, waiting, waiting, waiting. Until—aha. The rain finally comes to a complete stop, and she pushes away from her desk with a triumphant huff, getting to her feet and sweeping everything into her bag before lifting it over her shoulder.
She's about to set off, already turned towards the door, when she catches a glimpse of Cassandra across the room. Papers in her hand, furrow on her brow. Hm. Sparrow watches as the furrow only becomes more pronounced with each passing second.
“Cass! Cassiiiieeeee!” She sing-songs, as she edges past her own desk and starts making her way towards Cassandra's. “Are you sick? You look a little sick. I think it's all these papers,” she gestures towards towering heap. “You can develop a real serious allergy if you work with them for too long, you know. You need some air. You need to relax.” She nods, as if confirming her own assessment. “All this stress is gonna give you premature—” She pauses briefly, taking proper stock of Cassandra's face. Okay, a little too late for that. “Well. Anyway, it's unhealthy. And I'm sure Mr. Mayor can handle things on his own for one day. So c'mon, ditch with me. You know you want to...”
@devotien