November 1st
John
Emi’s eyebrows pull together when John offers to leave. “I don’t want you to go,” she says, reaching across the table to take his hand.

She sighs again, slipping her hand back out of John’s as she stands and closes up the container with her food, going to out it into the fridge. “When you’re done, we can head to the lounge and watch a movie or something. I’ll let you pick.”