#Chapter240
He puts it back down and walks to me, something small in his hand and holds it out casually, his face lightening with a hint of a shy smile.
/"You may want this. Don’t think it should meet the furnace./"
I blink as my eyes focus on the black tube in his hand, confused for a second as to what I’m looking at, and I realise as my eyesight settles on it that it’s the red lipstick I lost the last time I lived here. The no longer manufactured shade of red that was always my signature colour. The exact shade of my hair. The one I looked everywhere for and realised it must have been left behind.
Weirdly, emotional trauma makes me happy gasp at the sight of it. Truly having a last psychotic break after one long evening of way too much drama.
/"Oh, my God, where did you find it?/"
