Emmie wasn't sure why it felt like she should have the upper hand in this whole exchange. Nella wasn't a game and Emmie wasn't particularly predatory. Quite the opposite, the unruly-haired girl was the sort with a talent for pouting apathy on most days. Perhaps it was the vulnerability of a new and small hope. Emmie hadn't realized she'd wanted someone to talk to until she asked for it, and Nella was so curiously transparent. Emmie had to bite back a laugh at the other girl's blatant fluster. She watched Nella go, cupping her mug in both hands. Nella was kind of endearing, really. Emmie wondered if the girl knew.<br/><br/>She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a female friend. She could hardly remember the last time she'd actually had a friend at all. She had a list of names in this city that were easy enough to call on when the apartment became to stifling or she couldn't quite bring herself to go home. They liked to say liquor-laden things about wandering girls, and Emmie didn't mind shutting them up with her tongue. She thought she'd probably call them friends if anybody bothered to ask, but she was also certain she wouldn't mean a word of it. None of them would ask where she'd gone if she didn't pick up the phone next Saturday night. Emmie wondered if she'd cared before. She wasn't sure if she cared now. But she did recognize that she was kind of hoping Nella would come back and stay a little while.<br/><br/>The girl was quick to return, cream and sugar provided as she took a seat. "Ah, yea, I should've brought an umbrella." Emmie agreed. A little bit of cream. A lot of sugar. She stirred her coffee with a shrug and pushed her damp hair back with her free hand. Her fingers froze, tangled in her dark tresses, when Nella continued. She hadn't expected that. Emmie didn't hesitate long, though, recovering and taking a quick sip from her cup. So, her neighbor Nella looked soft and sweet, wielded coffee pots and paint brushes, and was surprisingly bold. "Do you check on me often?" Emmie asked with a quick grin and an easy laugh. "I like the fresh air." She added. "And seeing your art from time to time. How long have you been painting?" She asked. It was more comfortable to inquire than she'd anticipated, and Emmie settled a little further against the back of her chair, letting the steam from her mug roll over her lips. This was kind of nice.