The air is sizzling, antsy on the balls of its own feet. The world beyond the fast-running bullet train is a blur of mismatched colors. Spotted red and fading blue, clashing harshly with the pelting white of an oncoming snowstorm.

"Ease up on the expression there,"

He looks down on her kindly enough. Beaded red eyes focused, scrutinizing if not for the drunken haze that always seems to surround him.

A sigh.

"Ya know,"

He grumbles, slumping into the seat beside her, legs spread and hands cramped against the wall from where he let them hang over the backrest. He wears a roguish sort of smile, something probably charming for the ladies he likes to keep around. She remains unamused.

"I expected,"

He huffs, following after the roll of her eyes in what she'd only assume to be amusement. Always amusement.

"—you to be difficult. Didn't expect ya to be mute as well,"

She glowers, a dark thing that he waves off, laughing breezily. As if he didn't care.

He probably didn't.

"I can talk."

She grounds, the words catching on her tongue even as she speaks them. They're heavy, if words had any physical weight. Towing her tongue down like ten-ton bricks, or an anchor in the deep sea.

"And do you have a name, oh well-spoken one?"

There's a flash of teeth in his smile. Something biting, almost mocking in the tilt of his lips. Or perhaps she was simply biased, angered and driven as she was by the past. It didn't matter anyways, not when she turned her head away.

She didn't need to look at him for this, didn't need to talk if she didn't want to.

Beyond the tempered glass, the scenery mixes more than it had before. A conglomeration of deep browns and blacks, yellows and reds.

For whatever reason, she finds that beautiful.

They sit in silence for a while, neither of them saying a word.

There's commotion in the room beyond theirs, some thumping and laughing, squeaky voices loud enough to merge in with the constant of the train's engine. Somewhere, compartmentalized in the forest of her mind, she recognizes them well enough.

"Hey!"

Perhaps she'd been staring too long, perhaps she was simply obvious; either way he'd taken notice of her.

"You know, you could go talk to 'em"

There's a pause then, something thick filling the space between them. He's not as sprawled out as he had been before, his hands crossed over the table, feet touching and head bowed. For once, he's not looking at her when he speaks.

"I know it's hard, trusting us… me"

He sighs when he speaks, words grumbling and low, as if he wants no one else to hear.

"It is."

Because she'd never been a liar, and from the look on his face, he expected as much.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry things ended up this way for you."

And he did look ashamed, brows scrunched and lips pursed thin. For the first time since she'd gotten on this thrice-damned train, she felt guilty. Just a bit.

Of being difficult, of being annoyingly stubborn. Borderline foolish.

"It was for the best,"

And it's not quite an apology, but the words come easy to her, and that's a start.

"Alright, alright then."