(no subject)

When Therese leaves her apartment, she's dressed about as warmly as she can possibly manage, which feels both a little ridiculous and a little necessary. It's been cold these past couple of days, beyond just a normal winter brisk, with temperatures staying well below freezing. Mostly, it's just sort of annoying, but regardless, she would rather be excessively prepared than spend the walk from her apartment to the café where she's agreed to meet Oliver shivering. It wouldn't be enough to keep her inside, either. She's far from social at the best of times, but she does like to keep up with her friends, and embarrassed as she might be to admit it, she doesn't have many of those left. Enough time has passed that she isn't still reeling from losing Chloe and Elias and Arthur in such quick succession, but she's all the more grateful even so to have Oliver around, the person with whom she's closest.

Inside, it's almost blessedly warm, and she lets out a breath of shaky relief as she slips off her scarf and gloves. A good number of other people seem to have had the same idea, but she manages to find them an unoccupied table, gaze on the door so she'll be able to see when he comes in.