( it feels like this is glancing too closely onto something of dire significance, turning over stones that had been sitting untouched for too long. hearing from him gets her through the night? through the month?

thankfully, she keeps talking before he can address it. it's an importance that he simply doesn't deserve, to have someone like her hanging off his messages and waiting for a reply. for proof of life. this was why frank had surgically severed his connections as best he could. even his messages to curtis, amy, david, had tapered off and become sporadic over the last few months. he was bad at staying in touch. bad at keeping up the semblance of normalcy. had forgotten how to do it. they'd all wormed their way under his skin — this woman especially — and yet.

a muscle works in his jaw, like he's chewing over his words. his coffee's getting cold but he can't bring himself to indulge in that distraction anymore; hyper-fixated instead on the warmth of karen's skin, that self-conscious twist of her expression and the way she scrunches her nose. he could drown in these details. )

Keeping me under supervision, huh?

I don't mind. Already wrapped up my work here, anyway, so there shouldn't be any trouble following me home. ( because of course that was what he worried about, all the time. then, after a moment, he adds: ) Probably.