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"Hey, Ane – oh. Um, hey, Chai." Nalira tapped her fingers on the pay phone. "No, it's fine, you don't need to get your mom. I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to get home later. Yeah, I'm going to hang back at the park. Of course I miss you too. Yeah, I – "

Nalira's demeanor changed. "I know I haven't been home in a while," she said sulkily. "Yes, I promise I'm going to come home this time – whatever. Tell your mom I'm going to get home late. Love you too."

Nalira placed the phone back down on the reciever and pinched the bridge of her nose. Home, she thought, I haven't used that term in a while. She leant back against the phone booth and pulled a pack of Marlboros out of her back pocket. She quickly lit a match and for a few hesitant moments enjoyed the warmth at her finger tips - it was too brief though, for she just as quickly pulled out a cigarette and lit it shakily and, with a breath more like a sigh, blew the match out.

She took a drag on the cigarette and was, for the moment, content. Suddenly, she was forced to bring herself back to reality as an ambulance rushed by. With a start, she looked down at the unsmoked cigarette burning itself to ashes in her fingers. Ignoring the bitter taste in her mouth, Nalira flicked the still smoldering cigarette to the ground and turned on her heel.

Nalira raised her eyes and stared at Sylvester briefly, scrutinizing him for any features she might recognize. Thankfully, there were none. She didn't reply when he finally addressed her, and, for a while, it seemed like she wasn't going to reply at all. The silence between them stretched long and hard, with nothing but a last puff of grey cigarette smoke exchanged. Then, finally, Nalira glanced up at him.

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying," She said, her voice deadpan and exhausted as she pulled out another cigarette, lighting it best she could with shaking hands. She took a drag, and was, for the moment, content. Annoyed and cold, but content.

Nalira tucked the cigarette securely between her lips and was instead using her hands to brush herself off. She couldn't help it – she needed something to do with her hands. It kept her mind clean and fresh and blank.

Nalira watched Sylvester fidget uncomfortably, her lips twisting sideways into something that might be classified as a smile, but only in the loosest terms.

"Yes, no, maybe. It depends on who's asking," She plucked the cigarette from her mouth, giving it an odd look, before blowing a puff of smoke into Sylvester's face. She grinned darkly and planted her palms firmly behind her head, leaning back against the phone booth. She placed the cigarette back between her lips and took a bored puff.

"Seeings as I probably don't know you, and don't really give a s**t who you are anyway, let's just use 'no' in this situation." Nalira said, bored by Sylvester's companionship, or lack there-of, her chest burning with the itch to cough.

"Ah," Nalira said knowingly, gesturing to Sylvester in a calm, kind of swooping motion. "Yeah, I remember now." She mumbled, relatively uninterested. Today was too cold to care. Nalira didn't really mix well with cold, and she wasn't prepared for it today; the best she could find to wear was an old, unwraveling overcoat she'd owned for atleast four years and some knitted gloves with material so sparse and thin in some areas it was a wonder they were still intact.

With a small sigh, Nalira closed her eyes, her expression ambivalent as she flicked the cigarette to the ground, putting it out with the toe of her shoe. She winced as a sudden onslaught of cold, wet rain and cold, wet stones began. Pebbles dropped and dribbled and struck, just large enough to sting.

"We should probably head undercover, toute suite. Well, I should. You can do whatever you want, as long as it's nowhere near me." She said, wiping the rain away from her forehead. She turned her head upwards, eyes sharp and annoyed, raindrops dotting her eyelashes.

"I don't know," Nalira said, shrugging her thin shoulders. "It just sort of came back, I guess." She moved back into the phone booth, her grin widening into something sideways and uneasy.

"Hey, kid, are you just going to stand there and get stoned to death, or what? You look pathetic," Nalira yelled over the falling rocks, suprisingly chipper as her train of thought was derailed by the loud smacks. A moment of silence passed. Nalira watched as the hail grew increasingly heavier, and her next actions were something of a ********," Nalira spat, pushing back on her palms to support her weight and launching forward - it was impressive, but Nalira knew she wouldn't be able to keep it up for long. She grabbed the Tale's shoulders, throwing him into the phone booth. "You're going to get yourself killed, jackass." She hissed, her eyes sharp and suprisingly keen, wheezing in a manner that might almost be considered pathetic.

Nalira shifted back against the phone booth and eyed Sylvester warily. It seemed the two had managed to reach some sort of impasse, staring at each other silently for an inordinate amount of time. Then, without warning, Nalira lifted a single rebellious finger and, with deliberate slowness, squished Sylvester's nose against his face. Not hard enough to knock the Tale from his feet, but just enough to make her feel better.

"Yeah, you'd better be thankful, kid." She smiled, giving him a playful shove.