Welcome to Gaia! ::

Though the weather was bitingly cold, it had all at once dawned on Alba just how much she regretted wearing bulky layers before powering up. With each slow step she took on route back to the dormitories did she feel her clothes press up against her tender stomach, and it was uncomfortable to say the least. It had been a good 20 minutes since she left Moonstone's unconscious body alone, and already was she beginning to suffer the damages that were taking a good toll on her.

Her body ached with every punch the lieutenant assaulted her torso with, and her neck was a deep and sickly color purple as a painful reminder of Moonstone's nearly successful choke hold. The sleeves of her coat and her sweater hid teeth marks that dragged across her right arm, though on a positive note: that had at least stopped bleeding and formed healthy scabs on the punctures deep enough to need them. Alba was physically battered, emotionally beaten and exhausted by both accounts; upgrading to handle more power had really drained any energy she could have mustered in a life or death situation, and now, the only thing that kept her standing and placing each foot forward was knowing that a block ahead, she would be safe. She would just quietly enter her suite, tip-toe down the hallway and collapse into her bed. Surely, her roommates would be asleep by now and allow for a question-less entry.

However, as she and Chloe (who had been diligently keeping guard by her feet) traversed that final block and the dorm came into full view, Alba's heart sank. A few windows bathed the sidewalks with warm lights from late night studying, among them being a large, horizontal window with curtains only partly closed. It was unmistakable: she could just barely make out the frills from the gaudy set of curtains Elegancia demanded to decorate their shared living room. Somebody was awake, or possibly fallen asleep with the television on; either way, it meant that sneaking into the apartment held too much of a risk of being caught, and she was in no shape to even attempt coming in through her bedroom window.

She knew very few people whom she could trust that could take a plea of help this late in the hour, but she didn't want to bother them; she just did not feel comfortable enough in their friendship to allow such an intrusion. Alba was too tired to scout a safe place to stay in for the night, and so that left her with one last option to try, and she was vehemently opposed to it. He had already gone out of his way to take care of her after the coma, and was the person who managed to prevent her from going out to do the very thing she did tonight, and failed.

But she had no other choice.

"Thanks for walking with me, Chloe." she said with a defeated sigh. "I'm safe now." The siamese nodded in silent acknowledgment before disappearing into the shadows, leaving Alba to enter the secured building with a single swipe of her card. While the walk had felt like eternity as guilt and remorse gnawed away at her shoulders, it only took her a few minutes to get to Simon's door. She lifted a hand to knock, paused, then thought better of it. Instead, she summoned her senshi-phone to the palm of her hand and flipped the lid open.

2:34 A.M. blinked back at her from a dim green light. The boy would definitely be sleeping by now. Nervously, she dialed Atlas's number and anxiously waited for him to pick up.

"Hey! Hey, I'm so sorry, I know it's late." Her voice was barely above a whisper to keep from waking up the other students, though her tone was distinctively desperate. Something was obviously wrong. "I just...I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I'm by your door. Could you please let me in? I'll tell you everything then."

Once he opened the door, he'd find Alba bracing herself against its frame. He wouldn't be able to see any bruising right away, as they were all hidden beneath thick winter attire, so at first appearance nothing seemed amiss. However, should the hallway light be bright enough or should he usher her into his lit room, he'd notice flecks of dried blood freckling her entire face. Alba put on her best impression of Atlas Sad Puppy Eyes. "Hi." She greeted again, albeit more timidly than on the phone.

"I'm sorry." Alba echoed once more as she was ushered inside the dorm and encouraged to sit on the mattress, still a little warm from when Simon slept. His reaction was expected, and while she was prepared for his anxiety to be overwhelming and fluttering about like an oversized hummingbird, she still couldn't shake off the great amount of guilt that festered within her. When it came down to it, she wouldn't be so badly injured nor disrupting Simon's safe and peaceful slumber had she only listened to him from the start. She simply was not ready to patrol on her own then, and both her body and her pride were paying a high price for it.

As Simon flittered about, Alba resisted the urge to fall back on the bed to take a long night's rest by busying herself. Specifically, by peeling away the layers of winter garments that had become too much like a sauna inside the cozy dorm. She wasn't sure where to place them, so opted for a neat pile on the floor beside her for the moment, the base made of her heavy coat and topped with knitted gloves. The difference in appearance was enormous: she looked smaller and much more fragile than she had when she'd first walk in, almost as though she'd physically shrunk. With the scarf no longer tucked around her neck, it was easier for Simon to see the bruise after he came back from the bathroom, rag in hand.

"Huh? What would I need this for...?" Tentatively, she turned her head to face the mirror near the foot of the bed and gasped at her reflection. "Oh dear. Ooooh dear, thanks. I see now." After scrubbing a bit, she allowed her face to rest against the back of the rag, the feel of its warm moisture against her skin comforting. She sighed into it, not particularly wanting to divulge Simon of her night's occurrence, thereby making him more worried. However, she also didn't want to lie to him or refuse him information, as he did answer her late-night phone call and has so far allowed her to stay in his room. She lifted her head and spoke, her eyes darting between his and various other objects scattered across the dorm while her hands wrung the rough cloth nervously.

"I'll be okay. So far it's just really bad bruising and a cut, I think. I don't believe I need to go see a doctor for them...Though if they get worse, I will." Alba hastily added, knowing full well what his next recommendation would have been were she not to mention it. "I promise. Really."

"As for what happened tonight...." She continued, "I decided to go on a patrol, on my own. I didn't think I'd run into anything worthwhile, but...well, as you can see, I was wrong. Very wrong. I ran into a lieutenant. It was....really, really unpleasant."

"I'm sorry." It was about the fifth time she apologized in a span of 20 minutes. "I think my roommates are awake, and you were the only person I felt comfortable to call so late. Which, by the way, thanks for taking it. I appreciate it."

Having spent the last few hours outside wearing an outfit that closely resembled an embellished one-piece, Alba was still burning up in the room, even with her various winter outerwear removed. This spike in temperature could have been caused by a multitude of things, the most obvious being that her body had simply accustomed itself to the bitter cold that was outside. Simon's room (and the rest of the dormitories, for that matter) was just a few degrees warmer than room temperature, which was perfect for pants-only clothing ensembles; not so much for fuzzy angora sweaters.

A less discernible theory would be that she felt remorseful for her actions, particularly after Simon sat beside her and wore the look of unquestionable disappointment on his face. Alba kept her eyes averted, much like a reprimanded child who'd been caught in the act of no good. "It's stupid." She began as she rolled the sleeves to her sweater up, allowing for some fresh and cool air to bathe her skin. In the process, she revealed a few more plum bruises and a long, awkward cut on her right arm.

"I felt helpless and restless. I thought if I told someone, they'd try and talk me out of it." She couldn't help but bury her face into her hands at this point, her voice swelling and threatening to crack. "I hadn't done anything in weeks. I thought I'd be ready. I felt so useless....I thought if maybe I saw for myself that I wasn't needed, that I'd be okay with it."

"But I didn't see that." Her voice was a whisper now, trembling as she recalled the violence she'd witnessed beforehand. "I saw something so terrible, I...I should have turned around. I don't know what I was thinking."

Feeling his hand on her shoulder encouraged Alba to untangle her face away from her palms and meet his eyes as he spoke. She could feel her face becoming warmer, as she still felt badly for calling him up and repeating that same pattern all over again: she's hurt, either physically or emotionally or in this case both, and he's there, tolerant of her melodramatics and with a helping hand to soothe her. To this day Alba wasn't sure how Simon was able to put up with her antics. There are only so many things a person can do wrong before it's no longer okay to forgive.

"No, don't apologize. You have every right to be mad." She said while letting herself lean against him, her forehead pressing against his collar bone. Her skin against his caused a momentary shock, as Alba came to the conclusion that he hadn't been wearing a shirt this entire time. She wasn't sure if jerking away was the best thing to do (for both him and her battered body), so hesitantly, opted to stay where she was and continued as though nothing was uncomfortable. "It's late at night, you should be sleeping, and the last thing you should be worrying about is me."

"But seriously, thank you." She pressed on, suddenly all too aware of how warm and soft he felt. "I don't know if I'll be able to get back to my dorm tonight, and...you're just too good to me, Simon. I don't know how you can stand it."

The pulse of Simon's heart beat was a faint murmur against her brow, a stable metronome that only slightly picked up in pace as their skins touched. It was subtle enough for Alba not to notice the change, or it may have been that she was too ill-at-ease herself to detect his own strained comfort. Either way, the dull drum of his life streaming under his clavicle was something of succor for Alba, and as Simon soothed her with encouraging words and gentle palms, she allowed herself to unwind and fluttered her eyes closed.

Sleep could have taken her right then and there, given how exhausted she had been. Whatever tension and anxiety she had built around her guilt simply melted away with every finger pressed against her shoulders. If Simon said he wasn't angry, she believed him full-heartedly; she didn't feel like rankling her anxiety amidst physical wounds, which had presented themselves as a more pressing concern as her body continued to relax and the adrenaline rush-- which carried her in battle-- finally dwindled to none.

"Thank you." She began, straightening herself away from Simon and forcing her eyelids to open. "I really don't feel comfortable sneaking into my room like this, and there's nothing you can do that would bother me. I promise."

Her lips spread into a small smile before she continued. "I, however, no longer want to be nuisance to you. Do you have a medical kit anywhere? Bandages, Neosporin, or pain killers? Just point the way and I can grab them before I make myself a place to sleep on the carpet."

The smile that had graced her face just moments before dwindled to a frown as Alba watched Simon wordlessly stand from the bed and walk back to his bathroom. She could see the fluorescent light flicker against the floor as he sifted through his bathroom-ly possessions to procure what was needed for her to sleep more soundly through the night. There were a few clicks and rattles before the light was finally turned off and he placed his findings on the night stand, and continued to stay quiet as he turned to rummage through his dresser drawers for clothes.

An irateness enveloped Alba in the form of a furrowed brow. While she knew that her phone call had assaulted any kind of a restful night that Simon might have been able to enjoy, she still didn't appreciate the silent treatment -- particularly when she was trying to be more accommodating for him. Her anger was inappropriate, exaggerated and unfounded, and she knew this. It was as though she were on a hunger fury, although in her case, it was driven from exhaustion alone.

Standing back up herself was no easy feat, though when she finally did, her hands scooped up the medical supplies and one of the shirts Simon brought out and haggardly limped to the bathroom to change and wash up. Not a sound was made as creams and bandages were applied to various parts of her aching body, her eyes taking in the sight that Simon must have seen when he first opened the door, sans the blood on her face.

She looked awful. She looked worse than awful. It was a sore epiphany, but one that was needed in order to overcome her own petty rage and accept that, while she wanted to be, she really wasn't okay. It was going to take at least a few weeks for the bruises to fade, and it was more than likely that the cut on her arm would scar. A not so gentle reminder of what would happen should she fail again.

When Alba stepped out of the bathroom, she held the rest of her clothes in a bunch against her stomach. In their place was Simon's shirt, humorously too large and threatening to reveal a bare shoulder. It would have been cute, had her expression not been so sullen. As she placed her clothes on top of her winter-wear pile, she sighed.

"Alright, I'll sleep on the bed. But if you are too uncomfortable and unable to sleep, I swear, Simon, I'll drag the mattress on the floor and lie with you."

Her eyes peered up at his through tangled heaps of untamable hair. "Okay?"