Blue changes into Tris' clothes carefully. They're well chosen, not too clingy or tight, just a little big where Tris is taller than she is. It's nice in an unexpectedly comforting way, curling into her clothes after the shock and pain of the crash. It makes this next part easier feeling. Tris's meaningful squeeze of her hand had felt like permission to breathe, acknowledgement that she isn't the only one always wanting, wanting something more and stubbornly clinging to what she already has. But -- even though she's pretty sure Tris would offer any of her close friends extra clothes if they needed them -- it still feels as though it's a private thing she wouldn't be invited to do if this was going to be a bad conversation.

(Also, Tris' shirt smells like her, in a skin and clean laundry sort of way. Blue is absolutely not plotting a way to hang on to it.)

"Oh!" She smiles, pausing in the doorway, and bends to scoop Elan up. "Hey there, bun bun, how about we don't step on each other." Elan flails a little and sniffs Blue with her soft nose before stilling: Blue sets her back down with a scritch to her ears and pads over to the kitchen.

"Hey."