He disappeared, a small smile on his face as he went to call a cab. They were together. Everything was okay.
(SHES GONNA DIE) Poppy entered her room and flopped on her couches, sighing deeply. She took a couple minutes, staring up at the ceiling with a small smile on her face, before sitting up to head to the lab.
(Shut up that's a dirty lie) He went home, gazing out the window the whole way, fantasizing about the future.
Poppy ran through the darkened streets, Tom prancing at her side joyfully. Her breaths were quick, and she laughed at the old dog's energy. "Come on, Tom!" she said to him. "Keep up!"
Francis calmly walked, zoning out as he passed the streetlights, not paying attention to anything except his own thoughts and the road ahead.
Her hair was tied back, and her jogging clothes were a simple pair of black leggings with s grey hoodie. She turned the corner of the empty street and paused, seeing a silhouette at the end of the street.
Tom growled, and Poppy began to walk closer, trying to catch her breath and see the figure cleared. She stopped in the safety of the streetlight's glow, and she squinted at the silhouette distrustfully.
His voice hit her and she stepped forward slightly. Her eyes widened when she was able to make him out, and she grinned. "Oh! Hey! It's you!"
"Yeah," she said, looking down at the dog affectionately. She crossed her arms and looked back up at him, shifting her weight onto her right leg. "Did you just get done with work?"
She watched him for a moment before grinning, pushing a lock of hair out of her face. "I'm not going to hug you," she said. "I'm all sweaty and gross. But I love you." She stretched her leg, pulling it back as Tom pranced around her. "He's getting a little antsy, I'm afraid."
"See you later," she said agreeably, grinning at him. She watched him for a moment, and then sped off into the darkness, her curls tossing with each movement. Tom followed closely behind. They turned the corner, and were gone.
