[that the door is unlocked is...not quite a surprise. she walks in on soft steps, taking in the condition of the apartment, and breathes a little sigh. she'd known to come here when Izo told her what happened, the new emptiness in their lives. it had hurt, but it would hurt others worse - someone like Andy, who she hasn't heard from, must be metaphorically bleeding on the floor.
there's moments where words will help. but this place can't stay like this. and so Emily sets down the food she made in the kitchen, and gets to work. cleaning, picking up what's amiss. setting things back to right physically, even as the scent of cigarettes still clings to fabric, refuses to move even when she opens the window for fresh air. the lamp is cleaned up, the floor safe again. even the bathroom - nothing of his will be taken away - just rearranged into a better way, like he would have done.
she's fixing it, because that's what she does. waiting for Andy to return, or come out, or hear what's going on, though Emily does try and be quiet. she's fixing what her hands can touch, because she can't stitch closed broken hearts.]
no subject
there's moments where words will help. but this place can't stay like this. and so Emily sets down the food she made in the kitchen, and gets to work. cleaning, picking up what's amiss. setting things back to right physically, even as the scent of cigarettes still clings to fabric, refuses to move even when she opens the window for fresh air. the lamp is cleaned up, the floor safe again. even the bathroom - nothing of his will be taken away - just rearranged into a better way, like he would have done.
she's fixing it, because that's what she does. waiting for Andy to return, or come out, or hear what's going on, though Emily does try and be quiet. she's fixing what her hands can touch, because she can't stitch closed broken hearts.]