Treeshire, UK

Liv covered the receiver a moment while she let out a glass-breaking yawn. "What-- He's at work right now, isn't he?"

"Not Elroy! Angel. He had his scars, and his glasses, and everything, but he didn't remember me.. Or you."

Liv fell dead silent.

"Liv, talk to me. I thought, you know, he was in that.. place. He even said his name was Astor. I gave him my number and told him to call me but what if he's still crazy?" After a rather long pause, she added..
"Do you think he'd date me?"

It was late. Far too late for any sensible adult with a long-time career in the botany business to be awake and kicking; and, yet, there she was, sprawled across a little more than her side of the bed, gazing at her healing forearm held outstretched above her. Nearly a year had passed since then. She had plotted and executed two more suicide attempts in that time -- neither of which were successful by any means, and the concepts of which never fell beyond any mind but her own. They were a hanging and an overdose, respectively. The hanging she pussied out upon, and the overdose wound up being an underdose that merely left her absent for a day of work on what one may call a "soma holiday". Both incidents occurred in what the writer presumes was springtime, within weeks of each other. After a while of this, she finally decided to strike something up with what little company she had.

"Bo-riss," she whispered, giving the man a sharp elbow to his ribs.

Boris groaned, turning over to find himself abnormally close to Olivia's face, the tips of their noses rubbing against each other. He stared at her for a moment, the works of his brain on low from just waking up, before finally moving farther from her side of her bed. "Hey," he sighed, and stretched his arms up ahead of him.

Olivia lifted her head slightly and tucked her hand beneath it, tangling her fingers through her frizzled mess of hair. "Have you ever thought about how they get those little dappling bits on ceilings?" she asked.