Still Around || Fiona
Waking up on a light Sunday morning, Imogen went straight away to feeding her new kitten that Eli had gotten her upon their reconciliation. Milo was mewing at her heels as she went over to his food bowl, bag of cat food in hand as she poured. As she was finishing up tidying her beautiful, new home, a chime rung out in her living room. Imogen left her kitchen, walking in curiosity to her couch where she had mindlessly throwing her iPhone as she hastily went to take care of Milo’s hunger. She grabbed her phone, the screen lit up with a text from a once known ‘Fiona Coyne’. Imogen’s expression was twisted, what could Fiona possibly have to say to her now? That she was a horrible friend? That she was miserable and alone? Imogen breathed in deep, swiping the lock on the device.
After a few texts back and forth, the friendship had been salvaged, though Imogen knew she could never throw away what her and Fiona had. The bond was strong, and something she wasn’t sure she could live without, no matter what they put each other through. The outcome of the exchange was that Imogen would be arriving to Fiona’s, because Fiona needed someone, and Imogen would always be there. After a quick shower, and throwing on a pair of comfortable black, Juicy Couture sweats, Imogen bid adieu to Milo, locking her apartment door as she walked out of her building and down to the parking lot. Her new Rang Rover sat in the same spot for over a week, having not left her home and even going as far as calling for home delivery for groceries.
The key in the ignition and Imogen’s foot on the gas, she took the route to Fiona’s condo, letting a solemn stream of Brand New invade her car speakers as she parked her car in the parking garage, briskly walking to the elevator that would take her to Fiona’s specific floor. Imogen was hesitant, the last time she saw FIona, she was all over the place. And since then, she had divulged herself in her art, as well as yoga and putting energy into raising Milo to be a respectable kitten. But as the elevator door opened and Imogen stepped out, coming face to face with Fiona’s front door, she wasn’t sure how her personality would hold up. A wavering fist made contact with the wood as she waited for Fiona to answer.
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