Any modesty that Emyli might have felt vanished years ago with that very first boy she slept with. They'd moved so awkwardly to undress one another and she remembered the heat that came from blushing over being stark naked for the first time in front of someone else. Her embarrassment made her feel more stupid than the awkward bumping and writhing that happened a few moments later. After that first time, Emyli promised herself she would feel more comfortable in her own skin; it was the one promise she held true. Her second experience was just as awkward, but she was nowhere near as embarrassed. Since that very first time, she'd learned to appreciate the way gazes lingered over her body rather than quail beneath them. She winked over at Toby when he responded, he word nice drawling over his tongue. "You know it," she laughed. She was so accustomed to people staring that she never once stopped to think what it would be like to be confronted with someone who looked away. And for now, she didn't have to because she didn't realize that Toby felt the least bit uncomfortable.
She balanced herself by holding his shoulders as she stepped into her underwear. She was sure to keep the side plastered with bandages turned away from Toby; for once, there was a part of her body that she didn't want someone else to see. In fact, she wasn't sure what the wound looked like under all those bandages. She figured there were several stitches and some bruising, but it was something that she desperately did not want to look at, especially not before she had to. She fastened her bra and pulled her dress on before grinning at Toby as he played with the end of one of the needles she had jerked out of the back of her hand. She chose not to look down to see whether or not her hand was bleeding; no one could say that Emyli had a weak constitution, but she really wasn't in the mood to be looking at her own blood considering just how much of it she saw the night before.
"Hey, you're the one with the plan; I'm on board with anything that gets me out of here without having to pay." She grinned and flopped down into the wheelchair as easily as she could. The thing about being stabbed and almost dying? Fucking hurt. Now everything she did was tainted with pain, even sitting down into the wheelchair caused her entire side to ache dully. She laughed lightly at Toby's comment, wishing he'd just left the subject well enough alone. Not that she blamed him for asking -- no, had the roles been reversed, she would have done the same thing -- she just wished they could pretend it never even happened. She shrugged and looked off towards the foot of the bed. "Went over to our favorite dump only to find it was closed up. Met this ginger who was a dead ringer for Shirley Manson in her younger years. Like, seriously. Naturally, we flirt and get a cab to go to a party back in town." She rolled her eyes. "We were getting into it pretty hot and heavy when we get to the party, so she pulls me down into the alley before we go inside. Said she wanted a private party first or some bullshit, I don't remember. Bitch shanks me before we're very far down." She decided that she didn't need to tell Toby about how Eileen had walked away with vial full of her blood, because judging from that look of concern etched in her friend's face, that fact would only cause him to worry even more. And Emyli just couldn't handle that sort of attention forced onto her.
"Anyways, dude found me and called the medics and as soon as I came to, I called you and here you are. So how bout that cab? Call back yet?" Just fucking get here already.