02-08-2018, 03:10 PM
She flattened her forehead against the steering wheel.
Keep the heid; she'd only had to keep the heid. But calm had been a world away when Marcil's smug face came into view and the injustices of Sage's story fired her up like a rocket. It wasn't the first time she'd acted without thinking, compelled by something deep in her psyche. But it was the first time she'd succumbed while wearing doctor's white.
She needed to get home, but finally some sense wormed its way into her head and took belligerent residence over her recklessness. She couldn't drive in this state, not safely. Shouldn't have even done it the first time, let alone with the blood of consequence still so fresh in her mind. God, but she could still feel it running through her fingers, the utter futility of pouring everything in -- hope, pain and sweat, the desperation to beat death itself -- only for it to spill out just as fast. Only to fail. The cries of that girl's family were like the wails of ghosts, haunting her even now.
She sat back, pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, and pushed her thoughts into a practical direction. She needed to get home, she needed to sleep, and then she needed to fix the fucking mess she'd made. The gentle rocking of the tube was liable to lull her to oblivion; not an option. At least a taxi driver would rouse her if she drifted -- he'd need to to get his damn extortionate fare. But when she turned to search for her bag on the back seat, she realised with abject horror that it was still in her fucking locker at work. This time when she bashed her head down, the horn blared a sharp blast of misery out into the parking lot.
She had no family this side of the world, and no time for a social life that might have garnered friends. The only person she could call was the last person she wanted to. And he might not even answer.
Still, at this point, she was fucking desperate.
She dialled the number; spoke as soon as the receiver clicked. "Y'need tae come and get me. I'm at the MSU campus hospital. And I've had a shitty day. Days. Fuck, I can't remember the last time I slept. A girl needs tae sleep, right? Else she's liable to prove herself an utter bampot."
She screwed her eyes tight. Fought down the frustration that she'd completely fucked any chance of checking on Sage today -- and probably a lot more than that, but the enormity of her stupidity was just too big to comprehend right now. "Don't be a dick. Come now."
She ended the call, chucked her phone on the passenger seat. Tipped her head back to stare at the sloping roof. Hoped the bastard would actually come.
***
A bash on the driver's side window jolted her awake. Morven blinked blearily, eyes throbbing with the rude effort of clawing back to consciousness way before she was ready. She rolled her head, and set eyes on the most beautiful thing she could imagine seeing right at that moment. Even if it was Sören. He was dressed smartly, tailored all over in deep navy, no sign of the trinkets and charms at his wrists or neck. His hair was neat, his beard groomed. The deep amber of his good eye narrowed to a frown as he opened the car door.
"You scrub up well."
She grinned despite herself, knowing how the shadows dug under her eyes and the mass of her hair was frizzing its way out of her braids. It wasn't like he ever responded to harmless flirting anyway, but it was a rare fucking day when she was actually pleased to see him. She shifted to grab her phone and eased herself stiffly out of the car.
"I'm late for a meeting with a prospective client. You've picked a most inconvenient time to play the damsel, Morven."
"Aye, well if you want to talk about inconvenience."
"I don't want to talk at all. Why can't you drive home?"
"Because I'd rather not end up a bloody smear on the road, if it's all the same to you."
She snapped the words, but he only shrugged, not even a little bit curious of her predicament. For a moment he stared in that mildly infuriating way that made her feel like an insect under glass, like he was weighing the fucking request (and if he was, she was seriously contemplating stabbing her keys into his good eye), then he turned and gestured to the humming vehicle behind him.
"I'll take you to mine. It's closer than the delightful neighbourhood you call home. I am already late."
Fine. That was fine. She ignored the insult, locked up her car and slid into the passenger seat gratefully, biting back from giving the irritated finger to the impatient traffic beginning to build behind his vehicle. Someone already sat in the driver's chair; she belatedly realised Sören's new look was apparently accompanied with other accoutrements of seeming wealth. Not that she'd ever dug about too deep into his business. Was she supposed to be sitting in the back? Uh, fuck. She deigned not to care
Keep the heid; she'd only had to keep the heid. But calm had been a world away when Marcil's smug face came into view and the injustices of Sage's story fired her up like a rocket. It wasn't the first time she'd acted without thinking, compelled by something deep in her psyche. But it was the first time she'd succumbed while wearing doctor's white.
She needed to get home, but finally some sense wormed its way into her head and took belligerent residence over her recklessness. She couldn't drive in this state, not safely. Shouldn't have even done it the first time, let alone with the blood of consequence still so fresh in her mind. God, but she could still feel it running through her fingers, the utter futility of pouring everything in -- hope, pain and sweat, the desperation to beat death itself -- only for it to spill out just as fast. Only to fail. The cries of that girl's family were like the wails of ghosts, haunting her even now.
She sat back, pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, and pushed her thoughts into a practical direction. She needed to get home, she needed to sleep, and then she needed to fix the fucking mess she'd made. The gentle rocking of the tube was liable to lull her to oblivion; not an option. At least a taxi driver would rouse her if she drifted -- he'd need to to get his damn extortionate fare. But when she turned to search for her bag on the back seat, she realised with abject horror that it was still in her fucking locker at work. This time when she bashed her head down, the horn blared a sharp blast of misery out into the parking lot.
She had no family this side of the world, and no time for a social life that might have garnered friends. The only person she could call was the last person she wanted to. And he might not even answer.
Still, at this point, she was fucking desperate.
She dialled the number; spoke as soon as the receiver clicked. "Y'need tae come and get me. I'm at the MSU campus hospital. And I've had a shitty day. Days. Fuck, I can't remember the last time I slept. A girl needs tae sleep, right? Else she's liable to prove herself an utter bampot."
She screwed her eyes tight. Fought down the frustration that she'd completely fucked any chance of checking on Sage today -- and probably a lot more than that, but the enormity of her stupidity was just too big to comprehend right now. "Don't be a dick. Come now."
She ended the call, chucked her phone on the passenger seat. Tipped her head back to stare at the sloping roof. Hoped the bastard would actually come.
***
A bash on the driver's side window jolted her awake. Morven blinked blearily, eyes throbbing with the rude effort of clawing back to consciousness way before she was ready. She rolled her head, and set eyes on the most beautiful thing she could imagine seeing right at that moment. Even if it was Sören. He was dressed smartly, tailored all over in deep navy, no sign of the trinkets and charms at his wrists or neck. His hair was neat, his beard groomed. The deep amber of his good eye narrowed to a frown as he opened the car door.
"You scrub up well."
She grinned despite herself, knowing how the shadows dug under her eyes and the mass of her hair was frizzing its way out of her braids. It wasn't like he ever responded to harmless flirting anyway, but it was a rare fucking day when she was actually pleased to see him. She shifted to grab her phone and eased herself stiffly out of the car.
"I'm late for a meeting with a prospective client. You've picked a most inconvenient time to play the damsel, Morven."
"Aye, well if you want to talk about inconvenience."
"I don't want to talk at all. Why can't you drive home?"
"Because I'd rather not end up a bloody smear on the road, if it's all the same to you."
She snapped the words, but he only shrugged, not even a little bit curious of her predicament. For a moment he stared in that mildly infuriating way that made her feel like an insect under glass, like he was weighing the fucking request (and if he was, she was seriously contemplating stabbing her keys into his good eye), then he turned and gestured to the humming vehicle behind him.
"I'll take you to mine. It's closer than the delightful neighbourhood you call home. I am already late."
Fine. That was fine. She ignored the insult, locked up her car and slid into the passenger seat gratefully, biting back from giving the irritated finger to the impatient traffic beginning to build behind his vehicle. Someone already sat in the driver's chair; she belatedly realised Sören's new look was apparently accompanied with other accoutrements of seeming wealth. Not that she'd ever dug about too deep into his business. Was she supposed to be sitting in the back? Uh, fuck. She deigned not to care
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