"It went..." she blows air, rippling the surface of her drink before she takes a swig. "I mean. Seeing her again was— like seeing the sun again. You know? Like—"

—pulling herself out of the dirt and squinting into the bright light, both beautiful and agonising. It's a feeling she knows all too literally. Still, the comparison makes her embarrassed to even say, keeps her from meeting Jon's eye.

She makes a low, frustrated noise and recalibrates.

"We went back to my house in town and we— we talked. Maybe not as much as we should. But— we did. Covered the big stuff. Dahlia. You lot being here. Timelines." Now Daisy looks at him. "She's from the apocalypse, Jon. Right in the middle of it. Hasn't met monster me yet, but honestly that's worse. 'Cause I know. And she doesn't. And—"

Another frustrated noise. Daisy drinks again.

"...anyway, she's been living in the house since. So. Yeah. We're— working on it. I guess."