Prose:
Iris and Cameron walk past about five stories' worth of office building. In front of it is an imposing brick sculpture of archways and walls.
"Cameron, you really, really don't have to."
"I'm just trying to say I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what, exactly?"
"I acted rashly, you got hurt."
"It's one plaster, you could have died."
"What?"
"You know, from falling off a roof."
"Oh my god," Cam, shocked, "I could have died. Which means you're buying me "I'm sorry" coffee!"

Below the strip, a comfy chair.