She stormed out of the house, not keeping to the path, letting the dirt of the manicured lawn get on her shoes. She didn't care. She couldn't care anymore. She felt silly, having wrestled so long with her moral compass, only to find out that there was no strict sense of morality, and that it seemed everyone was just trying to do what was best by them. She continued down the road, her sorrow having dissolved into anger, not caring that she didn't know where she was going, just knowing that she had to move or she might explode.

A few blocks down, she tripped over an unevenness in the pavement, sending her sprawling indigently to the ground. As she pushed herself up, she winced, looking down at her leg. She felt ridiculously child-like, having skinned her knee, adding a literal injury to the insult. She didn't bother standing, righting herself into a sitting position and then just remaining on the ground, content to sit in the dirt. Nothing mattered anyway. There was no one around to witness her strange behavior, so why should she care?

It was a surprisingly long time before they were able to find her. He sat in the front, trying his best to not appear perturbed as they scanned the roads. She should have been out ages ago. They continued to circle the area. He swallowed down his nervousness, hoping she hadn't run off or escaped - she wouldn't, would she? Perhaps he had been more of an influence on her than he had realized.

He almost didn't recognize her at first. She was seated directly on the ground, disheveled looking and angry. They slowed the car, stopping half a block from her. He rolled down his window to call to her when she didn't immediately stand.

"Violet!" She didn't respond, obstinate as ever.

He nodded to the man with only half an ear behind him, who promptly exited the car, and lifting her by the bicep, pulled her towards them. She allowed herself to be moved, reluctantly.

"What happened to you?" he frowned. Her hair was coming loose, and now that she was standing he could see that her knee was bleeding. She slid into the seat bitterly.

"I fell. Please, can we just go home?" He shrugged, facing forward again, trying to quiet his curiosity for now. No doubt he would learn more later, best not to make her any angrier than she already was. The bitter disappointment radiating off of her seemed promising to him, almost cooing of his imminent victory. He smirked, leaning into his seat, enjoying his impending victory. And yet, something was wrong.

She sat in the back, staring emptily out the window, her arms crossed tight over her chest. She looked so small suddenly, as if she had been deflated. The two men beside her seemed so unnecessary- she lacked the energy to do anything more than stare. It unsettled him. She was always so obdurate, it was somewhat frighting to witness her expression of defeat. Fear tugged inside him. She hadn't been hurt, had she?

She looked up, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. He glanced away quickly, not wanting her to know he had been watching her.

He was watching her. She could feel it skirt against her skin uncomfortably, like she was a picture observed from behind a piece of glass. Whatever. Let him look. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting he had been right. He was perfectly infuriating, a beacon of everything she did not want, and yet she was finding more and more each day, she would have little idea how to live without. What would she do once she was free? She didn't have an answer- she could picture one maybe two days into that future, but after that? There was nothing. Her life as it was, on the other hand, she easily saw stretching out before her, unfurling in a mess of monotony. She stared out the window, hating him. She hated the fact that he necessitated the emotion of hate in her, something she could have quite easily lived without. She stared out the window. It did not yield any answers.

It was a painfully slow process to return to the house, leaving him feeling somewhat uncomfortable in the stifling silence. When they finally did arrive, he nodded his men away for the time being, hoping to catch her alone. She had already slammed the door shut behind herself, leaving him somewhat miffed at the inconvenience of having to reopen it. When he finally did get in, she was pulling off her shoes in the foyer, seeming more angry than upset.

"Do you not have a driver's license, or what?"

He looked down at her, blinking.

"Pardon?"

"Do you straight up just not know how to drive, or do you simply prefer being chauffeured around?"

She didn't wait for an answer. straightening up and walking away. He followed after her perplexed.

"What happened? Did everything go according to plan?"

"Yes, it was fine, it was fantastic. Super glad I could help." She never turned back to look at him, making her way up the stairs infuriatingly. He caught up to her, catching her wrist.

"You do NOT walk away when I am talking to you."

He was angry. She didn't care, trying to twist her hand out of his grip.

"I'm tired, I'm going to bed." Scowling, he grabbed her around the waist, throwing her over his shoulder. She pushed up against his back angrily. "You're fucking kidding me, right?" Equally annoyed, he dropped her in his large chair, blocking her escape by placing his hands on either side of the chair backing.

"What the hell happened?"

"Nothing happened. I got the information you wanted, nothing more and nothing less. I'm tired, may I pretty please leave now?" Her voice was dripping with irritation.

"How did you get hurt?"

"I told you, I fell."

"Did someone hurt you?"

"My own idiocy and gravity."

"What did they do?"

"Provide you with some much-sought answers, as you expected, now please-"

He kneeled down in front of her, lifting her leg to examine her knee more closely. She tried to pull it away, but his grip was too tight.

"Stay here."

He stood up, leaving for the kitchen. She obeyed, albeit bitterly.

He was surprised to see she hadn't left, although her stooped posture in the chair radiated a biting anger. He took her calf in his hand, using the wet towel in his hand to clean it. She breathed in with a sharp hiss, trying to pull away.

"I really ought to have one of the men teach you how to fight."

"Unless me punching the damn sidewalk is going to do any good, I don't see how it would help."

"Watch your mouth - swearing is unbecoming in a lady."

"You're one to talk."

She was feeling fierce again. He smiled despite himself. Softly, he wrapped the bandage around her knee.

She watched him, his fingers working with an uncharacteristic tenderness against her skin. He finished, smoothing it over with a soft pressure, concentrating intently. He looked up at her, an equal intensity in his eyes. She blushed, shoving down the emotions in her chest, standing abruptly to scurry away. Unfortunately, he was closer than she had calculated, and so bounced against his chest as he stood as well. She pushed against him, flustered, turning to go. He caught her, smiling wickedly.

"What, no thank you?"

"I have to go, goodbye."

She skirted out of his touch, trying her best to not look like she was running as she headed up the stairs. He watched her amusedly as she made her escape.

..

...

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AN-

Stop avoiding the question Olaf, do you not know how to drive or are you just that damn extra?

Keep giving me your feedback my dudes/heathens, I am solidly obsessed with everything you have to say to me.

Cheers