[somewhere in her chest, something tightens. it's hard to say what it is, or even what kind of feeling it's meant to invoke. but she notes it, and the quiet sensation it spreads through her, brow creasing as she re-reads the new block of messages.
it takes another moment before she rallies herself to reply properly.]
no subject
it takes another moment before she rallies herself to reply properly.]
We can treat each other to a meal.
When will you be available to meet in person?