The day Buckey left to go overseas; Steve didn't show up at the harbour. Nor did he show up the day after, or the following week.

In fact, Lori didn't see Steve for two weeks. Not until she decided to seek him out himself, finding his apartment rather quickly, yet unable to actually tell him how she found him. In the end, Steve assumed she'd spoken more with Buckey, outside their evening together, and had gotten the address from him.

The thought of his two friends spending time together without him, left Steve feeling cold and empty inside, his stomach turning into knots.

But, now Buckey was gone and Lori was standing in his door, her tall frame forcing her to tilt her head down, so she can gaze at him.

She doesn't speak, instead she forces her way inside, casting a linger glance at the apartment. It's clean, save for a few art-supplies and drawings in the corner, which immediately catch her eyes.

"You paint", she states arching her swan-like neck towards the sketches. Steve almost expect her to barge over and riffle through them as others would, perhaps complain that drawing isn't considered a male profession. But then he remembers that Lori isn't exactly like any other person he's ever met.

"Yes," he hesitated for a moment, testing the words in his mouth before continuing, "would you like to see them?"

"Not particularly."

She moved through the apartment into the kitchen, leaving a rather stunned Steve in her wake.

He could hear her rummaging through his stuff out there and quickly joined her, only to find her staring into a tin of ground-coffee like it was the most puzzling thing in the world.

"Need any help?"

Instead of answering, Lori set down the tin on the kitchen counter and turned towards him with a determined look on her face.

"You haven't been at the habour for a while," once again she didn't ask, but instead stated. Although, that didn't stop Steve from asking her.

"No, I.." she didn't give him time to finish before she continued;

"Why?"

"I haven't been feeling well, I suppose," Steve paused for a moment, before coming to a decision, "Buckey left to go overseas."

He had spoken to her of his wishes to join the army and fight for his country. She knew it pained him that Buckey could go but he couldn't, and while she had never expressed any wish to fight for her or anyone else's freedom, he felt as if there was some kind of understanding between them. Like she got how he felt, and had perhaps even felt something similar in her life.

As it was, she now regarded him with a blank stare that he knew meant that she was thinking things through. After a moment or two she seemed to come to a decision, and moved towards him with long and confident strides. As she stood before him she reached out a timid hand, placing it on his shoulder. Perhaps she meant it as a gesture of comfort, but the hand was heavy and she put too much pressure on it, making Steve's knees buckle beneath him. He forced himself to look up at her face, as his was leveled with her sparse bosom, and it wouldn't be proper for him to look forward.

"I will see you at the habour tomorrow, Steve," her blood red painted lips stretched in a timid as she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. Perhaps it was another attempt at comfort, but it didn't achieve anything else but making him flustered and stammering.

She pulled back, arching an eyebrow as she awaited his responds.

"Y-yes, tomorrow."

This seemed to satisfy her, as she quickly moved towards the door, only stopping at the threshold to turn to him and say;

"Till then, Steven."

The moment she had closed the door behind him, Steve moved towards the mirror in his tiny bathroom. Her red lips were branded onto his forehead, a almost perfect print. As he looked at it he suddenly felt more at ease, and almost felt as if his luck had finally turned. Perhaps tomorrow would be the day he finally got what he wanted.