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"𝘼𝙩𝙩𝙖 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡," 𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙.
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In which Gwendolyn Bird, beaten and bruised by the death of her brother, meets a dark-haired, green-eyed man in the most fateful circumstances. Except, he's holding a gun against her he...
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The fog-filled mirror had a streak wiped off of it, tiny, meaningless dew drops cascading down the glass as a result from the sudden build-up of residue in the humid air.
The bathmat in front of the shower was dampened from wet feet, and the walls of the enclosure looked ruined from the vigorous bathing that had just been occurring within it's holds.
As if the grime and torture lingering on a body had been slung by water into the very thing that had been washing them, ridding them of the reminder on their skin.
A person stood in front of the sink, staring into the section of now clear glass, feeling unrecognizable in their own body.
It was Gwen, but she didn't feel like Gwen.
Her hand massaged moisturizer into her face tiredly, with bags under her eyes after she'd washed off her makeup during her nearly hour-long shower. The whites of her eyes were reddened by her tears, now dry and achy from the overflow of hydration leaving her weak, dismantled form.
That's how she felt; weak and dismantled.
Like she'd been stripped of the remaining comfort inside of her, the only escape she'd been granted since she met Nine being ruined by someone simply manipulating her into trust.
She knew it was partially her fault, her too drunken state prohibiting her from looking behind her and seeing just who she was taking to an enclosed space.
But above her self-hatred and shame was this lingering feeling that she'd never be able to live her life the way she wanted to again. Whatever happened with Parker Oswald during their date was coming back and haunting her, likely never leaving her side.
The brutal force of Nine against Nick's body was swarming inside of her head in echoes, her cries at the realization of who was rubbing up on her shattering her mind as Crab held his arm around her in that restroom, her head tucked into his arm.
She couldn't watch.
She couldn't watch because she was a part of the problem this time.
Gwen wasn't on top of her game because she didn't know she had to be in the only moments she felt normal again.
A knock sounded at the door, her hand ceasing it's final movements on her skin with the cream.
"Gwen?" It was Lucy.
Everyone came back to Nine's following the incident. She wasn't sure who all was still there, and she wasn't even sure if Nine himself was. As soon as they arrived, she shut herself in the bathroom and stripped of her tainted clothing, hating herself in the shell she felt like she'd become.
Gwen didn't respond, so Lucy continued, "Can I come in?"
She wanted to say no, but it would do no good to stay in here longer, where it was harder to breathe in the simmering hot air.
