⊹ 《12TH JUNE》
No matter his flaws, she knew she could always count on him.
Kiaravell had spent the past couple of days or so bedridden in Jethryn Scott's apartment. The Hounds (special thanks to Peter) had been kind enough to procure some fresh Archfiend blood for her. But even so, t was a long, painful while before the 'poison' finally cleared out of her system. During that time, Kiaravell could only remember twisting and turning in-between Jethryn's sheets. And him scolding her. She found that strange. Usually, it was the other way around. He wouldn't leave her alone and, for once, she did not appreciate his silence. She actually preferred his usual, irritating self. But... she was also touched. The idiot was only ever serious like that when he was worried about those he truly cared about.
Though be that as it may, Kiaravell left quietly as soon as she was able to. She wanted- no, needed- to be alone. So, she made for the Chez Tzaz (found her cracked phone outside) and went straight to her room. Her captors had stripped her of everything she'd worn and put her in that 'dovelike' dress. That included the wrappings around her arm. Searching through her things, Kiaravell uncovered a roll of black bandages and immediately went about covering up her arms. Jet had seen the marks on them, that much was obvious by the way he kept looking at her with that look that said he wanted to say something but he just wouldn't say anything.
Sighing, Kiaravell climbed into her nestlike bed and curled up, wings curved protectively around her. She thought, after having seen and spent time with everyone again, that she was okay. That she could finally start her life anew... but deep down, the wound was still healing. Slowly. In that cage, surrounded by those people, Kiaravell had so easily given up. She didn't even want to fight for her life.
She didn't want to live.
