They ended the call and sat there for another moment, phone resting heavy in their hand.
Nothing felt resolved. The wanting hadn’t gone anywhere.
But at least they weren’t pretending they didn’t know what it was anymore.
Tilly signaled and pulled back into traffic.
They drove the rest of the way in silence, the radio still off. By the time they pulled into the station lot, the sky had brightened to a dull gray, clouds heavy and low. Snow clung to the edges of the building, piled unevenly where plows had given up.
Tilly sat in the car for a moment longer than necessary, hands resting on the wheel.
Get in. Get your gear. Do your job.
They could do that.
Inside, the building was already awake in the restless way it always was after a storm. Phones ringing. Producers calling outblocks. Someone was laughing too loudly near the assignment desk. The smell of coffee and damp coats hung in the air.
Tilly nodded to a few people as they passed. Familiar faces. Familiar rhythms. This part of the day usually settled them. It still did, a little.
They ducked into the gear room and started checking batteries.
Not because they needed to. Because it was there.
Their hands moved automatically. Open the case. Check the charge. Swap out anything below full. Line the used ones up neatly to deal with later. The order of it all made sense in a way nothing else did.
“You’re early.”
Andrew’s voice came from behind them.
Tilly glanced up. “Storm.”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “You good?”
“Fine.”
Andrew watched them for a second longer than politeness required. “You look like shit.”
Tilly snorted. “Morning to you, too.”
“Just saying,” he said, not unkindly. “You want coffee?”
They almost said no. Almost defaulted to the automatic refusal. But their hands paused over the battery case.
“Yeah,” they said instead. “Thanks.”
Andrew left, and Tilly finished packing the kit. The pause lingered, though. The tiny deviation from routine. Accepting something offered without a reason.
When Andrew came back, Tilly took the cup and nodded their thanks, fingers warming around it.
They didn’t drink it right away.
Across the room, Savannah passed the doorway, laughing at something someone said. The sound hit Tilly harder than it should have. Not because it was flirtatious. Because it was easy.Because it reminded them of how she sounded when she wasn’t guarding herself.
Tilly looked back down at the gear.
Not today.
They took a slow sip of coffee and forced their attention back to the checklist. One task at a time. One decision that didn’t involve wanting anything more than what was in front of them.
