…so stop fucking whining and get over it. Kinley’s lips are pressed into a grim line of irritation, her fingers deliberately moving over the keys with the roiling storminess of her poor mood. She knows she can’t actually say this – her readers wouldn’t be her readers for very much longer if she started speaking to them that way – but there’s something oddly therapeutic about coping with their petty problems with the words she really wants to say appearing on her screen. She’ll leave it like that for a while before she inevitably is forced to erase it and start again, but for now she’s bringing a hand up to run through her hair and letting out an exasperated sigh. Casting her eyes over to her now cold cuppa doesn’t help very much.
It’s with a determined (if frustrated) huff that she pushes her chair back from the table she’s holed up at. She doesn’t actually have a shift today, but she often comes down to the little tea shop she works at just to get out of her flat and into an environment that makes her feel safe; on most days, that helps a lot with her doing her second job, which is offering advice to the people who write into the paper she works for. Today, there’s too much going on inside of her house for even this to settle her, and she fidgets with the sleeve of her hoodie as she waits for the one other customer to be finish their order.
That’s when there’s a sudden cold draft signifying the door has opened, and it’s automatic when Kinley’s head turns to see who’s arrived, her gaze coming to rest on a familiar face. A flutter in her chest betrays her even just to herself, and she shifts her stance slightly, trying to control the smile that threatens to break out over her face. She has a bit of an…odd relationship with Evelyn, to say the least. She’s never sure of herself when she’s around, never certain of what to make of the way she feels, of how her insides churn and she’s torn between turning around and running and holding out her hand. From the very first time they’d met, their relationship has been atypical, and even as they continue to get more certain of each other and grow closer, it doesn’t really have much definition.
She tries to catch her eye, and figures she will considering she’s stood right in her direct path, but otherwise, she makes no move to greet her. There’s a tiny quirk to the corners of her mouth. Just a little.
it's pacing back and forth in front of store windows, it's adjusting the beanie that settles on her head of long strawberry blond hair, it's days after a storm that's kept her inside, it's a feeling of being threatened by everyone. it's a lot of everything paired with a feeling of being homesick and evelyn has no way out of it. she's tired of seeing little paris themed items in small shops. it feels as though they mock her, showing the things she now doesn't possess. not anymore. it's london feeling too cramped. the sky felt different here and the clouds are so grey, matching her seemingly constant grey mood. evelyn was a stubborn being, if things weren't exactly going her way, it wasn't good enough. granted, nothing ever seemed to be good enough for evelyn.
the girl had spotted kinley around twenty minutes ago, sitting in this tea shop, looking radiant. or at least radiant in evelyn's eyes. it earns the irritated state evelyn had found herself in to worsen. it's a stinging in her fingertips, wanting more. it's wanting to know kinley, to bask in her presence, seeing as it's a comfort for some reason. with a deep breath, evelyn moves inside, removing the beanie from her head as she does so, patting down the top of her hair. her eyes remain anywhere but on kinley, not wanting her to know she's come in there for her and her only. not yet.
evelyn finally turns, allowing her head to cant to the side as she finally approaches the table where kinley is sat. " well, would you look at that, " evelyn starts, with a sarcastic smile. it was hard for evelyn to come off as polite. maybe because she wasn't, she was never too sure. parts of her were just much too cold for most things, especially being polite without reason. " i'm starting to think running into you is going to become a routine. " her voice is softer this time, becoming suddenly a tad insecure, mainly because of her english. even though she could speak the language quite well, she still had some weak spots. for a brief moment, evelyn looks around. most tables were in use, minus a table in the back next to a man who looked like he smelled like cigarettes and hairspray. she’ll gladly pass. " mind if i sit ? " the girl asks, not even letting kinley answer before she sits, removing her coat and hanging it onto the back of her seat.