She considers, for a horrible moment, feigning sleep. She can't, won't do that to Greta - stupid to even think about it. She opens here eyes, peering at her friend's face behind a veil of grogginess and frustratingly pooling tears.
The hand on hers is anathema, and it cuts all the harder than she could ever feel that for an affectionate touch from Greta, but she can't stop herself from twitching, pulling away.
She looks around, every part of her feeling too heavy to lift. Greta's apartment. Rush nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Rush?" she murmurs, and starts to force herself up, step by staggered step, rolling onto her back, leaning her weight onto her 'good' arm (HAH!) and more or less levering herself up, wincing all the way. She doesn't look to see if help is offered - she doesn't want it. Doesn't need it. Ha ha ha.
She can feel the hysterics simmering just below her exterior calm, which is maintained only by weariness. She needs to get out of here. Away from this, from worried eyes and questions, from reaching hands, from everything. Now now now. She forces herself to wait.
no subject
The hand on hers is anathema, and it cuts all the harder than she could ever feel that for an affectionate touch from Greta, but she can't stop herself from twitching, pulling away.
She looks around, every part of her feeling too heavy to lift. Greta's apartment. Rush nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Rush?" she murmurs, and starts to force herself up, step by staggered step, rolling onto her back, leaning her weight onto her 'good' arm (HAH!) and more or less levering herself up, wincing all the way. She doesn't look to see if help is offered - she doesn't want it. Doesn't need it. Ha ha ha.
She can feel the hysterics simmering just below her exterior calm, which is maintained only by weariness. She needs to get out of here. Away from this, from worried eyes and questions, from reaching hands, from everything. Now now now. She forces herself to wait.