Owen sat in Tosh's kitchen, his eyes glued to a paper that he had yet to read a word of. The dead man couldn't bring himself to look up. Tosh was running around her flat, getting ready for the day. He risked a peak, and saw her slip a shirt over her head, her hair still wet and tangled. She pulled a comb from between her teeth, ripping it through her hair in a way that made the dead man cringe. He noticed her glance over at him, and he buried himself back into his paper. He heard her fall onto one of the chairs, quickly pulling on a pair of heels, before pushing herself back up. She stood, before turning to Owen.
"Let's go. I'll grab a pastry on the way, but it's nearly 11 and no one is at the HUB." The slightly panicked edge to this statement brought the dead man back around. He stood tossing the paper behind himself as he grabbed his jacket from the armchair.
"Alright then. I'll drive."
Gwen sat in her living room. A glass of water and a bottle of pills before her. The pounding in her head tempted her to simply drink the whole bottle and forgo the consequences, but common sense denied her such a blissful reprieve. She shook out two pills wincing as the noise rang through her head, and downed them with a swallow. She glanced at her watch, squinting to see the time in the far-too-bright glare of the living room. 11 o'clock. Damn. Gwen stood slowly, and headed to the door. With one last glance at her husband, still sprawled out on the floor, she left.