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Fuck.
It took every bit of control she had left to pull the door too gently and neither slam it, kick it, nor open it again to scream at that officious jumped up cow of a department secretary. Doctor’s certificates and police report numbers! For fuck’s sake - what? Was the bitch blind as well? Maybe if she showed up dead they’d let her talk to the director!
It might have started as a harsh laugh but it was closer to a sob by the time it reached her lips. She made it only four paces down the corridor before her knees gave out, sliding her down the wall. She decided to stay there, hiding her face in her knees, trying not to let the shaking pull her apart.
Fuck.
Because she really needed a side serving of humiliation to go with the bruises and the cuts, and the stabbing pain every time she tried to pull in a deep breath. Get yourself together girl. Stop it. Stop this. Stop. Fuck. It wasn’t stopping, and she really was sitting in a regulation issue college corridor, between a paper recycling bin and a fuck ugly orange plastic chair, biting her lip to keep from howling.
Fuck.
She’d had a plan. Well, Ru had had a plan, and it was a good plan. It had kept her going till she got here. Neither of them had counted on some uber-bitch with PMS keeping her from even speaking to the director though. Fuck. She should have let Sari drive her to the ER when she offered, or at least after the first time she threw up.
Note to self : cheesecake, coffee and remembered terror are a really fucking bad mix.
She tasted bile at the back of her mouth and swallowed hard. Not being able to breath for that split second almost choked her again, and the desperate inhalation that followed made her gasp. She shifted to wrap one arm firmly around her chest. Jesus Christ on a fucking stick but that hurt. She scrubbed at her eyes with the other hand. She looked dully at the black smear across the ball of her thumb for a second.
Back in the little one person bathroom at the dinner, after everything, she’d cleaned herself up for college. Cold water and green scratchy paper towels sandpapering off tears and make up alike. Ru’d dug around in his courier bag, pretending not to watch, and then just passed her an eyeliner. Didn’t say a word, just handed over this little two inch stub of kohl pencil, and she’d been able to turn back to the mirror and find herself somewhere in there again.
A voice interrupted her thought process.
‘You’re not ok, are you?’
‘No shit sherlock’
The words snapped out before she could think. How to make friends and influence people, huh. She moved her hand a little. Black work boots, faded blue jeans, kind of frayed around the hem. Still standing there.
‘Sorry.’
‘It was a pretty dumb question.’
She wiped her thumb along her left cheekbone - the right just hurt too fucking much, and the black eye probably made the smeared eyeliner a non issue. Time to get standing though, if this guy was going to keep standing there staring at her.
Jesus but standing up hurt, every bruise and scab complaining, and her head spinning. Her hand closed blindly around a thin wrist . Navy jersey, even if the temperature was heading back towards the 100 mark, and a handful of rubber bangles
‘Hey - Christ you are really not ok! - and that was phenomenally rude of me. Sorry.’
Seeing as the wrist and the wall were doing a pretty reasonable job of holding her up, and the spinning was settling down to a steady painful thump, she didn’t let go. Instead she looked up. Dishwater blond hair falling over worried-looking big grey eyes. She registered an eyebrow ring and a couple of earrings, and an overall impression of small and skinny. Jesus she must look a sight, the way he was looking at her.
‘’S true though.’ she managed.
‘What happened? I mean’ he corrected himself before she could say anything else. ‘can I help? Is there anything ... ?’
‘I’ll be fine. Just need to find somewhere to sit, figure out what I’m doing..’
She let go of his arm, and pushed off from the wall. Her bruised knee complained vigorously.
‘Shit’ she hissed. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any pain killers on you? Only I think the lot I took earlier have pretty much stopped working.’
‘Um, no.’ He looked visibly worried, which was oddly endearing. ‘Look - lets get you down to the Red, and then you can sit, and I’ll get some from the mini mart.’
Mal closed her eyes for a second. The thought that she must really look like something the cat had dragged in only to have it trodden into the carpet by something heavy crossed her mind. There’s not a whole lot of pride that can stand up to being found sobbing in a corridor either.
‘Thanks’ she said, and accepted the support of the offered arm.
It took every bit of control she had left to pull the door too gently and neither slam it, kick it, nor open it again to scream at that officious jumped up cow of a department secretary. Doctor’s certificates and police report numbers! For fuck’s sake - what? Was the bitch blind as well? Maybe if she showed up dead they’d let her talk to the director!
It might have started as a harsh laugh but it was closer to a sob by the time it reached her lips. She made it only four paces down the corridor before her knees gave out, sliding her down the wall. She decided to stay there, hiding her face in her knees, trying not to let the shaking pull her apart.
Fuck.
Because she really needed a side serving of humiliation to go with the bruises and the cuts, and the stabbing pain every time she tried to pull in a deep breath. Get yourself together girl. Stop it. Stop this. Stop. Fuck. It wasn’t stopping, and she really was sitting in a regulation issue college corridor, between a paper recycling bin and a fuck ugly orange plastic chair, biting her lip to keep from howling.
Fuck.
She’d had a plan. Well, Ru had had a plan, and it was a good plan. It had kept her going till she got here. Neither of them had counted on some uber-bitch with PMS keeping her from even speaking to the director though. Fuck. She should have let Sari drive her to the ER when she offered, or at least after the first time she threw up.
Note to self : cheesecake, coffee and remembered terror are a really fucking bad mix.
She tasted bile at the back of her mouth and swallowed hard. Not being able to breath for that split second almost choked her again, and the desperate inhalation that followed made her gasp. She shifted to wrap one arm firmly around her chest. Jesus Christ on a fucking stick but that hurt. She scrubbed at her eyes with the other hand. She looked dully at the black smear across the ball of her thumb for a second.
Back in the little one person bathroom at the dinner, after everything, she’d cleaned herself up for college. Cold water and green scratchy paper towels sandpapering off tears and make up alike. Ru’d dug around in his courier bag, pretending not to watch, and then just passed her an eyeliner. Didn’t say a word, just handed over this little two inch stub of kohl pencil, and she’d been able to turn back to the mirror and find herself somewhere in there again.
A voice interrupted her thought process.
‘You’re not ok, are you?’
‘No shit sherlock’
The words snapped out before she could think. How to make friends and influence people, huh. She moved her hand a little. Black work boots, faded blue jeans, kind of frayed around the hem. Still standing there.
‘Sorry.’
‘It was a pretty dumb question.’
She wiped her thumb along her left cheekbone - the right just hurt too fucking much, and the black eye probably made the smeared eyeliner a non issue. Time to get standing though, if this guy was going to keep standing there staring at her.
Jesus but standing up hurt, every bruise and scab complaining, and her head spinning. Her hand closed blindly around a thin wrist . Navy jersey, even if the temperature was heading back towards the 100 mark, and a handful of rubber bangles
‘Hey - Christ you are really not ok! - and that was phenomenally rude of me. Sorry.’
Seeing as the wrist and the wall were doing a pretty reasonable job of holding her up, and the spinning was settling down to a steady painful thump, she didn’t let go. Instead she looked up. Dishwater blond hair falling over worried-looking big grey eyes. She registered an eyebrow ring and a couple of earrings, and an overall impression of small and skinny. Jesus she must look a sight, the way he was looking at her.
‘’S true though.’ she managed.
‘What happened? I mean’ he corrected himself before she could say anything else. ‘can I help? Is there anything ... ?’
‘I’ll be fine. Just need to find somewhere to sit, figure out what I’m doing..’
She let go of his arm, and pushed off from the wall. Her bruised knee complained vigorously.
‘Shit’ she hissed. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any pain killers on you? Only I think the lot I took earlier have pretty much stopped working.’
‘Um, no.’ He looked visibly worried, which was oddly endearing. ‘Look - lets get you down to the Red, and then you can sit, and I’ll get some from the mini mart.’
Mal closed her eyes for a second. The thought that she must really look like something the cat had dragged in only to have it trodden into the carpet by something heavy crossed her mind. There’s not a whole lot of pride that can stand up to being found sobbing in a corridor either.
‘Thanks’ she said, and accepted the support of the offered arm.