Dahlia hugged Quinn back. She wouldn’t cry—for starters, she didn’t have the energy. Some days it was all she could do to drag herself to the sims, she didn’t have it in her to break down so early in the morning. Besides, Quinn made that easier. However fraught she was some days, having her around made Dahlia feel…safer. More at ease. 

Being a pilot was so tumultuous on the best of days. Constants were scarce, and fleeting, and at times Dahlia was scared of how close she and Quinn had become, if for no other reason than she might lose her. For now, though, she was right here. 

“[color=skyblue]You don’t have to be sorry either. We’re both just…tryin’ our best, right? That’s family stuff.[/color]” She let her head rest on Quinn’s. “[color=skyblue][i]Real[/i] family stuff.[/color]”

Another few indulgent moments, then Dahlia let go before she could decide to forget about her responsibilities for the day.

“[color=skyblue]Alright, I’m headin’ out. Wanna do lunch? You can pick a place, just text me whenever you get hungry![/color]” She stuck her tablet in her pocket, threw on that bright yellow jacket from the hanger, and made for the door. “[color=skyblue]Love you![/color]”

Then she was gone, and Quinn was alone in the dorms. 

Well, partly. It was rare for Quinn to ever feel [i]truly[/i] alone these days. As Dahlia left, a longing bubbled up in her mind. A chill ghosted down her spine, brief and not uncomfortable, like the touch of a cloud. A sound like distant hoofsteps underlaid the ambient buzzing, and the quiet sound of the TV, a decreasingly strange phenomenon as the days went by.

In the corner of her eye was the flicker of a girl sitting on the counter, absently kicking her legs, vanishing in some imperceptible trick of the light, but not gone. Never gone. 

The day had begun.