One week later

I sat cross-legged on the bed, blinking, so my eyes to adjust to the light. It almost felt like a dream. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and I wanted to feel a bit warmer. Tears glided down my cheeks, stained my shoulders, moved smoothly between my breasts and stopped around the belly button. I sat down on the edge of the bed and put my hand over my mouth as the same thought ran through my head.

Bloody hell Elizabeth, why didn't you tell me she's as good as dead?

A couple of days later I realized that Diaval was trying to upset me, and I instantly didn't like him because of it. It was nothing else than wasted energy on some insignificant person.

A soft knock on the door was all it took to realize Elizabeth would continue to pester me. I mentally counted to ten.

"The door isn't closed Elizabeth." I said to her.

Elizabeth walked inside looking like she was about to give a conference on things-you-didn't-know-you-could-make-in-a-microwave. She arched a brow for some reason no one sane would comprehend.

"Before you assume, try asking."

She watched me for a moment as I struggled to let everything sink in.

"Just because you're free to say whatever you want, it doesn't always mean you should."

Her mouth dropped open at that.

"You don't need to be saved. You need to be found and appreciated."

I wrapped my arms around my small waist. Elizabeth saw the dead side of me, but she also knew the scared little girl.

Elizabeth placed her cold hands on my tensed shoulders. We stared at each other for a long moment. My brain had decided to take that moment to memorize every feature on her face rather than come up with anything to say to her. She looked like she was about to say something, but seemed lost for words.

My heart rate increased with the slight tremor in my hands. 

I decided to take a long shower and ignore the world for a while.