closed starter for @socialalchemy
it’s not as if leona hasn’t mentally prepared for this concept — someone breaking into her apartment felt inevitable when you lived in a half decent loft in brooklyn and not a penthouse in fucking manhattan with a doorman. she’s expecting more shattered glass or a masked, hooded figure toting a gun, but instead there’s just the smooth slide of her window which she’s now second guessing having locked. then, a body climbing in from the fire escape. she’s sitting in the dark, which feels advantageous considering what she’s witnessing. frozen on the spot, she places her finished glass of whisky on the velvet couch carefully and leaning forward for her phone. despite her attempts to turn the brightness down before she goes noticed, she draws their attention when her phone seems to become her own personal ball of sunlight. “fuck.” she grumbles, rushing to flick on the lamp, hoping to catch a glance of them or scare them off, but instead she’s making eye contact with james standing in the space between her living room and the breakfast bar. “wait... jesus.” leona slumped back against the couch, a bewildered laugh leaving her. “what the hell are you doing breaking into my apartment? maybe i was right to not show up that day, you fucking psycho.” she’s kidding, clear by her tone, though she still feels a little startled by the whole thing.
