Closer

[The Cedar Witch]

continued from here
reserved for SAIKETSU

With exception to the broken passenger side window, Pierre\'s perfect car ran much smoother then the shabby Nova she was used to being carted around in--not that it made much of a difference to the girl. Damien\'s relentless pressure on the accelerator caused her to grip her hands tightly in terror, but there was reason for this speed. If it wasn\'t for his nearly instantaneous reaction time and expert control of the vehicle\'s movement, she might have protested to the excessive speed. Typically he would have slowed in response to her obvious discomfort, even if he had no problem controlling the car going this speed. But this wasn\'t a typical drive.

The girl\'s expression remained completely unreadable, wide eyes focused straight ahead at the windshield. It was the only outward indicator of her fear. The window\'s condition made it impossible for her hair to remain still no matter how she tried to tame it. Eventually she gave up the fight, hugging her arms tightly around her body and focusing on the feeling of her face beginning to numb. Her hair moved like whips, thrashing against the pink skin of her freezing cheeks that were so cold she couldn\'t feel the lashes. Inhale. Exhale.

Everything had happened so quickly; Storm hardly had the proper time to process exactly what had occurred. She didn\'t know where they were going and she didn\'t dare ask; the one thing she knew for sure was that they weren\'t returning to the apartment. Not tonight. Probably not ever again. Guilt began to slowly seep into the corners of her mind; guilt for ruining the peace with issues of her past and ghosts that refused to leave, guilt for being powerless to fend them off on her own, for being weak inconvenient and fragile. These were her demons; she was obligated to deal with them on her own. Storm didn\'t need him stepping in all of the time, going out of his way to make sure she was not harmed. She could fight, she had done it before; she didn\'t need him worrying about her.

Only once did the girl glance at the vampire\'s face while on the way to wherever he had decided to take her. Neither of them spoke and he did not look at her. Damien\'s eyes remained focused ahead, flickering over the landscape before him with an expression enrapt in something she had grown to recognize as quieted anger and deep, calculative planning. Storm knew better then to ask what he was thinking of if he was angry with her, no matter how the questions plagued her. Besides, the rushing wind around her would have made it impossible for her to hear him and for them to carry on a casual conversation. Especially since there was nothing care-free about the situation at all.

In an extremely short amount of time, they entered the city; the only indication of this that Storm actually noticed was the slightest reduction of speed and it was barely noticeable. The chill from the furious wind was a welcome distraction: it forced all other thoughts from her mind and an almost peaceful silence overcame her. For a blissful few moments, her mind was quiet. And miraculously, by the time Damien eased the car into the parking lot of Detour Hotel, Storm had settled into a state of numbness. Slowly she processed her surroundings without actually thinking about them. It was all unnecessary information and an unnecessary headache. If the vampire said anything at all to her as they walked into the lobby together, it was scarcely heard. All that she caught—the only thing that she understood—was that they were staying here for the night and Pierre would being her clothing at some undisclosed time. Other then that, Storm had no idea what was going on.

The girl didn’t move after walking up to the front desk. She stared placidly at the air above her shoes as if there was something peculiar about it. If it wasn’t for Damien’s gentle pressure on her shoulder guiding her ahead of him, she probably wouldn’t have moved at all. The trance-like stupor her brain had forced itself into out of pure emotional strain prevented her from willing her legs to walk in any particular direction unguided. Numb. It was almost as if she had already given in and accepted the fact that she had been caught. That he had already won. And it wasn’t until the hotel room door had clicked shut, followed by the sound of the deadbolt locking into place, that the numbness had begun to slowly disintegrate. Eyes that did not see remained fixed straight ahead, face unmoving yet threatening to break at any moment. She had come so close to being reclaimed. So close. The thought exhausted her.

“Don’t let me sleep,” Storm sounded weak. She felt weak, voice wavering and breaking at the last syllable. She wanted the wind again, that comforting invisible pressure on every inch of her face, whipping her hair against her cheeks that had flushed deeply to combat the chill of the night, pushing out all thoughts. After all, she knew deep down that running from the Captain was useless. Sure, he would have followed Pierre in the Nova across town, but that would throw him off for what, a few hours? The damage was already done. He had two scents to track now instead of one. The thought was nauseating.

[Saiketsu]

It was queer, really. It was common for his children to tell him that he thought too much. Yet until he slide the deadbolt into the lock and backed away from the door, he hadn\'t ever thought less. Logic had been thrown to the wind and Damien Evans was running on pure, nine-hundred-and-twenty-something-year-old instinct. He needed to get her away from Laurent, out of his grasp. Now, locked in the Detour Hotel, he couldn\'t help the thoughts when they came flooding back.

He was infuriated -- that much had been obvious since Laurent had first invaded his mind -- but the rumbling sensation that jarred his calm nature to the bone seemed to hit him in waves now that the ability to feel returned. Gut-wrenching anger. His senses were heightened, naturally, and he realized that he was boring into the door with his gaze as if he were trying to tell a prey to come closer. Her words hadn\'t registered to him yet, his feral expression locked on the door; he half-expected the Zalmric tyrant to come strolling in as if invited.

He was sick of this, this constant running and hiding, searching for a way out. Damien felt as though it were the only thing he could do now and he hated it deeply. He had been driven out of his own god-damn house by some brat he would have typically never taken on. Nikolai had been a nuisance and of little help in anyway. Now his legacy had blown the seams of Damien’s plans wide open to the only true enemy that Damien had. The Oligarchy was too small of a threat to cross Damien’s mind anymore – the regime was on the back burner until Laurent was exterminated.

Frustration. Anger. Hatred. It all flowed from his chest in waves surging through his arteries and reawakening the beast within him. His jaw ached in the most primal of ways with an accompanying tremble deep in the bones. His ears strained to hear outside the door and into the hallway for any footsteps. If Laurent had ever managed to figure out that it was Pierre with Damien’s car and vise versa and somehow ended up finding them, they’d be trapped. He had no idea what he would do. Whatever it was, Laurent had to be eliminated now.

After several long moments of staring at the door, Damien checked the window with caution. He knew he should have left the city, gone all the way up north to the borders of the country. Storm shouldn’t have been in the city. It wasn’t safe. But here there was no present danger. The thought gave Damien no comfort whatsoever.

Before he knew it, he was pacing the floor of the living space, deep in thought. Pierre was out there with his car. Laurent would follow him. His apartment was unattended with money inside. Pierre’s car was too noticeable. Dawn was a long way off. He hadn’t fed in a while. He needed to stay awake through the next day. Where were they going to live.

Something was in his hands and it felt wonderful. Glass and wood. Suddenly, it was out of his hands and his anger had found a new outlet. The sound of shattering glass made him snowball into a rage. The television was left for dead by the time he realized that he had torn it from its stand.  The coffee table, the towel rack, and whatever else he could tear at was thrown into disheveled chaos.

[The Cedar Witch]

Up until this point, the girl had made a significant effort to lower walls that had been making their time together uncomfortable. It was a reflex for the defence to come back so quickly, as if she anticipated attack at any time, though she knew that he would not harm her. Never before had she wittnessed anything close to his true anger, nothing close to this. Storm wasn\'t afraid. More caught off guard and shocked then afraid of him. One of the first conscious thoughts was the noise he was making, but she wasn\'t about to suggest he settle down lest neighbors complain.

The girl\'s eyes flickered anxiously around as she backed against the wall, subconsciously trying to move out of the way. She watched him pace with mild detatchment, trying to process everything while silmuntaneously trying to forget that anything had ever happened. For the sake of her emotional stability.

It wasn\'t until a steady stream of French reached her ears that she realized he was on the phone. Although clearly tense and angry, the sound of it was oddly comforting. And no matter how curious she was about the conversation, she wasn\'t about to ask him what was going on. Silence gripped her throat, influencing her breathing along with her ability to speak; and so she waited.

[Saiketsu]

The phone snapped shut. He wasn\'t followed into the city. One thing off his mind. Now he had to ditch Damien\'s car somewhere that Laurent would follow in vain and then see that he had wasted his time. Somewhere close enough to keep him interested, but far enough to keep away from Storm for as long as possible. He wanted to get out of the city altogether, but he couldn\'t leave Pierre to do this all alone.

He had told him to get help; Elliot, Jack, Jason, Denise, anyone that could help. Vehicles needed to be gathered and traded or disposed of altogether. Pierre was going to purchase that house he had been looking at, that house that Damien had never gotten around to visiting. Damien accepted the idea reluctantly. He and Storm could move in within a few days. The things at the appartment would be moved as soon as things fell into place. He was the commander again and Pierre, the obedient soldier.

His movement stopped and Damien settled on one of the twin beds with the woolen blankets, his head in his hands, arms on his knees. The vampire sighed with frustration. If it had ever helped him, Damien would have itched for a smoke. The crushed packet in his pants meant close to nothing at the current moment. He could hear Storm\'s erratic breathing, felt her presence for the first time, pressed against some far wall.

The moments passed awkwardly and utterly silent. His mind reeled but he became increasing aware of Storm\'s movements, however small she thought they were. His ears could hear her heart hammering in her chest and the minutely movements she made in her labors to breathe or stay as still and as unnoticeable. His skin could feel the warmth of her own vaguely, his throat suddenly dry at the thought.

He hadn\'t fed in how long? Everything just seemed like so long. It had been Storm\'s birthday. Another arguement. A trip into the woods. Laurent\'s chase. And now here. He needed blood, but he couldn\'t leave Storm. Worst yet, her clothes still reeked of her own blood which didn\'t help Damien\'s throat in the least.

Without trying to think too much, Damien lifted his head and addressed her in a weary voice, his age showing in everything he did. An ancient trapped in a twenty-year-old\'s body. "Are you hungry? Do you need anything? I\'m having one of Pierre\'s fledglings come with some things."

[The Cedar Witch]

Storm did not look at Damien as he spoke. He sounded exhausted, felt angry and she knew he hadn\'t fed recently. So if there was anything she could think of doing that would not cause him strain, she would do it. After all, this whole mess had been her fault to begin with. She would hate to make anything worse, anything more difficult. No, she was not hungry. The fact that her clothing still carried the stench of her blood while she remained in the presence of a vampire wasn\'t the brightest idea she ever had.

"A change of clothing," the girl managed to mutter after a long pause, with her back still against the wall. She would shower quickly and change, to rid herself of the scent however much she could. As for afterward, well, she would not sleep. For all she knew, that would be the time he had been waiting for in order to strike. Storm was not about to give him that kind of an opening.

[Saiketsu]

Had he been any less weary of trouble finding them time and again, he would have laughed his sarcastic, douchey laugh. He had already thought of that one; she would have a pair of his own clothes. But it would be at least another ten minutes before anyone got here with what he needed. Damien simply nodded, hanging his head in weariness again.

Her scent was getting stronger minutely. Her heart hammered. Her shirt reeked. Her hot skin was too welcoming. His throat burned with Thirst. His senses stretched. Anger raged again. He would not touch her. Not again. But his thoughts were triggered to replay that night where she had given him her blood. Her blood that tasted so well of his Lucretia. It had been hard to pull out of her wrist. What he wouldn\'t do to be back there, pulling that hammering heart to its inevitable end...

Damien had squint his eyes against his own thoughts, something faster than she could have ever seen. What the fuck is wrong with me? He was getting desperate. How long had it been since he had last fed? His mind was fuzzy, thick with too many thoughts. The vampire looked down at himself for the signs of malnourishment.  His flesh was as pale as ever, nothing extreme. It did fall differently around his bones than it had in a while -- his jeans felt slightly big tonight too...

But he couldn\'t leave Storm to go out. He couldn\'t simply walk the streets of the city and kill or even feed with Storm by his side. Yet he couldn\'t conceive staying up for yet another night and day without any kind of blood help.

There was a sharp rapping at the door and the vampire was on his feet in between Storm and the door before he knew it. "Go stand by the window in the corner." It was a direct order and expected her to obey without question. His eyes never left that door. Damien looked through the peep-hole, sighed and unlatched the door to stick his head out.

There was a young vampire at the door with striking brown eyes, and messy blonde hair. He wore a plaid shirt and loose jeans. He was no older than thirty-five, but he appeared half that. Without a word he handed Damien three shopping bags that were packed to the max. The elder took it silently and gave the boy a nod, then proceeded back inside.

After the door was latched and deadbolted, Damien through the bags on one of the beds. Searching through them, he told her to come closer. When she was at his side, he grabbed a pair of his sweatpants and a tee shirt out of the bag. "Go shower and change."

[The Cedar Witch]

Had it been under any other circumstances, she would have been reluctant to wear anything of his and probably would have complained about it. After all, she had her own clothing now, didn\'t she? It wasn\'t like they were kept at a different location then where his were. And even if it would keep her scent masked from him, it wasn\'t as though he hadn\'t already become familiar with Damien\'s. While Nikolai was in the apartment, he most definitely became familiar with everything including familiar scents. But the girl spoke nothing of this, jaw stiff and locked shut for fear of breaking the silence. Wordlessly Storm took the clothing, setting aside her particular disdain for sweatpants and over-sized shirts.

Nearly in a daze the Akari walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. There were no windows, thankfully, the only entrance into the place through the same door that she came in--and that she made sure was locked securely. For now, nothing invaded her mind but the steady sound of the shower. Damien\'s clothing she placed on the sink, her own fell onto the floor in the order they were removed and she was in no state of mind to be neat even in private. Steam had already filled the room, enveloping her skin in a shroud of moist heat that was more relaxing then anything had been that night.

Thousands of searing droplets hammering into her skin was almost a shocking feeling after the chill of the outdoors. But the unpleasantly hot feeling soon evolved into something more calming then the wind had ever been. The smell of different soap, shampoo, and conditioner was a comforting stranger and already the girl had stayed longer then she had intended. The heat and the floral scent reminded her of summer, lying in the grass completely alone with the rays of a slowly sinking sun her only company. It took her away from the hotel, the current dilemma, her past and everything that she had become so acutely familiar with. She could almost feel the grass beneath her, see the sunset through her closed eyes, and hear the sound of the wind rushing through the trees.

But there was the echo of laughter, the sudden approach of a face she had no desire to see invade her secret field. Intrusion and fear. It wasn\'t until her drooping head suddenly jolted upward that she realized she had dozed off. Heart hammering, she abruptly ended her shower by turning the nozzle clockwise with more force then was really necessary. Storm moved almost as though she expected him to be somewhere in the bathroom, as if it was even possible for that to be true. But the fear moved her still to grasp tightly at a plush white towel, only half-drying her dripping ivory skin, moving her again to quickly cover herself with the vampire\'s garb while checking every so often in the mirror and behind the curtain. Expecting to see an unfriendly face standing beside her or hiding in the shower.

Normally Storm would have spent a little more time in the quiet bathroom, allowing the steam to be sucked up by the fan before opening the door. But there was no such dawdling. Not when she could still feel some sort of presence lurking behind the curtain. She did, however, make a significant effort to calm herself before exiting the bathroom, opening and closing the door as quickly as possible. She crossed over to the opposite side of the room, holding her clothing in one hand and waiting for further instruction.

[Saiketsu]

In the time it had taken her to turn the shower on, Damien, who was lost within his own mind and thoughts of what he could possibly do in the current situation while aching for blood, went through the bags that were brought to him. Three outfits of clothing besides the ones he had given Storm. His gun. A credit card and a wad of money in a rubber band. A bag of apples that Damien had had stored in the refridgerator for Storm.

But There was something extra thrown in that he had not asked for. Perplexed, Damien reached in to the bag and pulled out a packet of red liquid. His throat scratched when his eyes fell on it, but Damien held his tongue and read the simple note attached. In Pierre\'s handwriting, the note said in old French,

I thought you might need this. You\'re looking a little pale, kid.

Damien couldn\'t help but give a small smile. Pierre had been thinking where he had not been. The thought made Damien proud, but instead of wasting his time on thank you\'s and blessings, the elder opened his mouth and shoved the chilled packet of blood into his fangs and drank deeply.

It was no virgin, but it did its job. Damien gulped it down as quickly as he could, the warmth of the sensation combining with the chilled temperature of the fluid gave the blood a worse taste, but he wasn\'t complaining. And for a few short moments, he actually enjoyed it, letting go of the need to protect Storm so passionately. He floated, revived of un-life for another night. Suddenly things seemed possible, Laurent distant and his goals obtainable.

But it was draining quickly and he had to stop before he lost control of his mind. Anger flared breifly as he took the last gulp of tangy fluid, but was squashed faster than it had come from years of self-control. Slowly he opened his eyes again -- though he hadn\'t realized that they had been closed -- and vision settled into sharp focus. He took the bag, no crumpled and worthless, away from his mouth and tossed it calmly away in the trashcan that he had knocked over in his fury. A droplet of blood rolled down his chin and his lips were tainted red as Storm reappeared in his field of vision. He quickly righted himself, wiping the blood away with his thumb and then placing it in his mouth as if it were the most casual of things that could be done

She seemed to be looking at him with intimidation. His new senses widened and took her in. His eyes captured the beautiful frame that he always secretly admired (even as it was hidden under his bagggy clothes). His ears could still hear that heart beating unevenly, but his mouth found it much less tempting now that his Thrst was sedated. But that smell. He had forgotten what it was like to smell Storm in his clothing and, in this new state of mind it wasn\'t exactly unpleasant -- to Damien\'s dismay. He looked away quickly and tried not to inhale the mixture of their scents or like the combination.

"Feel better?" It was rhetorical, just something to break the mood. His anger had smoldered over, his weariness faded for the most part. Now, he just felt refreshed and energized. Suddenly Laurent wasn\'t anything he couldn\'t handle anymore.

[The Cedar Witch]

Too lost in forcing her heartbeat to recover from the bout of fear, Storm completely missed the blood and whatever look the vampire gave her. At his words she looked up at him, recognizing that he had significantly calmed and had miraculously sedated his Thirst. Had she really taken that long to shower, that he would step out for a moment to feed? Would Damien had left her alone, even for that short amount of time? By the time the girl realized that she was staring, she averted her curious gaze to the floor.

Was she feeling better? The Akari shook her head, crossing over to a cushioned chair and settling deeply in an effort to relax her tense shoulders. She wasn\'t about to tell him what she saw in the shower: it would cause unnecessary fretting, besides, it was embarrassing. Falling asleep in the shower was a first, even for her. Dreams Storm would deal with on her own, as she always had, in secret.

The pile of her clothing had made its way to the floor in front of her without her knowledge. If sleep brought her any sort of relief, she would have slept right in the chair. Instead, with her elbows propped up on her knees, Storm rubbed her face slowly as if trying to wipe clean her stress and fear. If only something like that were so easy. She was back to where she started: running from something that she had foolishly believed that she escaped for the past four months. This would be the last time she lowered her guard; she would not go down without a fight.

But wasn\'t that what he wanted most? A fight? Wasn\'t that why she was chosen, out of all the others that had been herded like sheep for the slaughter, to be his play-thing? Always fighting. And not when fighting, running. When was there rest, when even from dreams she was forced to run because the Captain still lurked even inside her mind? She sighed deeply, hugging herself tightly and finding her unfolded clothing to be more interesting to stare at then anything else in the room.

"What are we doing now?" she asked softly, not moving from her position to even glance at the vampire.

[Saiketsu]

"We\'re going to be staying here for now, for tonight. We leave as soon as the sun sets tomorrow for a place outside the city." His voice was calm and controlled now, his eyes averted from her frame. He was trying to distract himself by finding something else to concentrate on -- and having little luck. Pierre would be coming over in time and he needed to keep her awake somehow. Luckily for him she had been out in the forest and she had done what she needed to do, or so he assumed. Pierre would have the answers to some of the problems he was having, hopefully, and needed to stay within the city for these answers.

Damien sat down on the bed, pushing aside the items from the bags. Plans were forming rapidly in his mind. Hopefully Pierre would be able to buy that house. Hopefully he could get everything moving while he kept Storm. Hopefully Pierre could get one of his children to follow him around. Hopefully Pierre\'s children realized how much trouble Pierre could be in. He\'d be lost without Pierre.

Pierre was the only first generation fledgling in the city that had known Lucretia. Few had ever seen here personally like Pierre\'s children had. Only Pierre had witnessed the closeness between the king and queen. Only Pierre had an inkling of what Damien went through when the queen was sacrificed. And it was only Pierre that he could trust his life, and the life of Storm, to. But if he ever lost him... No. The thought was too unimaginable. The empire would crumble.

The vampire sighed, returning back to the hotel room. He had broken the TV, so there was nothing to do, really, save talk. And he needed to keep her awake. "It must be terrible, not being able to sleep. How long has it been that way? If you don\'t mind me asking."

[The Cedar Witch]

"Always," Storm still did not look up, "There were always nightmares. They were different in my childhood. Less personal, more confusing. More blood. You saw it in my mind that first night. That was the place I would dream of. Except, when I was younger, the corpses were animated..." she stopped suddenly, feeling as though she had said too much. Normally, perhaps a few months before she wouldn\'t have been so specific. But it didn\'t matter. She knew he was trying to keep her awake.

The battlefield was a rare dream nowadays. Lately, all dreams that filled her mind were of him or those she was forced to slaughter. Storm almost wished she could dream exclusively of that other place, then perhaps she would be tempted to sleep more then every three or four days. Any longer and she would be even more clumsy then she was already.

The longest the girl had ever gone without sleep had been seven days and it was after the first night she had spent alone with the Captain. It wasn\'t out of fear of the dreams, but out of the horror of what had come to pass. After the sixth day, her dreams found her despite her waking condition. Anything that happened during that period of time, she could not recall, and on the eighth day she passed out from exhaustion.

"I slept more then. But the dreams are worse now and I try not to sleep as long as I can because of them. Not that I could get much rest from sleeping, I always wake up after a few short hours..." she smiled bitterly, looking up at Damien simply to see where his attention lay.

[Saiketsu]

It was all on her, watching with a type of ferociousness that Damien was famous for. It was astonishing how she worked and in the back of his mind, he had foolishly believed somewhat that it was just how her species worked. A human would have gone crazy after three days of wakefulness. Even he grew irratable after three nights of remaining completely awake. But to have that be the norm for her... It was almost inconceiveable to Damien.

"Do you think that you\'ll ever be able to sleep normally? Like when he\'s dead and this whole running business was just a memory?" It was a personal question for him; typically he let her be in her ways that he didn\'t comprehend. But she needed to remain awake. And he was genuinely interested. There was still so much he couldn\'t possibly know about her. He knew somewhat about Laurent, about how he had used her in every way a person could possibly be used. But there was little else he knew. And, unless he were mistaken, this was one of the first times she had ever willingly offered up any more new information about the years before Laurent. So his eyes didn\'t leave her. He watched her with aged eyes, making connections of understandings in the depths of his mind, connecting himself and his own past to her examples of her personal history.

[The Cedar Witch]

The girl was silent for a moment, meeting his eyes with more ease then she had before. "Do memories leave when the present has died?" She did not need an answer, and moved her gaze back to the floor and her mess of clothing that littered the spot at her feet. It wasn\'t as if he caused the dreams to occur, even when he walked within her conscience mind. He merely amplified them, caused them to become more real then she would have preferred, making it impossible for her to sleep safely.

As for killing the beast, even she had tried that. Unfortunately, a hole in his abdomen merely infuriated him instead of causing the usual disgusting arousal he swelled with for her typical violent outbursts. It was during his most vulnerable period of time, during one of their nights at the peak of the end. Perfect timing. Any other time and he could have vanished into smoke or something else. That was the closest she had come to killing him, and she had been deprived of food and water in addition to any source of energy in which she could take from, for a dangerously long period of time. It was nearly a basement, and since then she had learned what lines could be crossed and which could not.

"I doubt you could even kill him anyway," she said offhandedly, recalling herself the frustration at her failed trial. After all, he had shadows and could heal as well as she could. But even shadows had their weakness, their limit. And one day, they would take him. But one day was nowhere near soon enough.

[Saiketsu]

If it weren\'t for the thoughtful look on her face, Damien would have laughed. Laurent? Stand up to him? A vampire that was older than most of his ancestors? It was comical. He was a mortal. Damien wasn\'t. Damien couldn\'t die like Laurent could. The Zalmric had a heart beating blood to his body, a brain that controlled his thinking or his desire. Damien did not have this fragile limits. And even if the prick could use fire, Damien was faster than his wildest dreams. There was no possible way that Laurent could win in a one-on-one.

But that was the entire problem. Both of them knew that, so access to the prick was limited. So they had to keep running like they did now. Storm ran because Laurent couldn\'t be found. He was beginning to understand.

Leaving the question alone, Damien raked his brain to try to figure out what else he could say to her. "What if you had the option to take medication for it? Would you sleep then?"

[The Cedar Witch]

She laughed, "And take something that will knock me out longer so I can\'t wake up no matter how badly I wanted to? I don\'t think so." Storm feel silent.

Their conversations always ended so awkwardly, leaving empty spaces and nothing left to say. Sometimes she hated it, but other times it was relieving to have silence replace arguments and bruised feelings. As far as presently was concerned, she found herself wishing that she had asked Damien for her sketchbook along with the change of clothing. At least then she would have had something to occupy her hands with.