Evangeline Sablier is not broken, but please (handlewithcare) wrote in rooms,
Re: This is why Clem employs a chauffeur: Clem & Evie
Evie was only aware of her appearance to the point where she knew how awful she felt. And she was starting to feel pretty awful the longer she stood still. The adrenaline that had been keeping pain at bay was starting to subside and she looked down at her leg briefly as it throbbed. She looked at the palms of her hands, cut and covered in dirty worn pieces of her tee shirt. her tee shirt that must be ripped .... If logic existed.
She looked at the fact that the adrenaline was wearing off was a good thing. Her mind wasn't necessarily more clear but it seemed a little calm. She took a few deep breaths as she opened her mouth to think of a number. She didn't know anyone's numbers, they were in her phone. She reached into her back pocket, where had she left her backpack? And when?
She paused and pulled the phone, her journal, her phone, everything was in the device. And it was dead. No juice.
"The number is in here," she said shaking her head a bit. "Fuck."
Doors. Door folk. "I came here through the hotel, I live in New York, but have been stuck somewhere else. I needed to come back here to get something." She ran a dirty hand through dirty hair and it just kind of stayed in whatever odd style her fingers willed it to in that moment. It was pretty awful. And her hands throbbed with her heartbeat, and speaking of heartbeats her calf still had one, and her head had a heartbeat now too. She felt a little dizzy. Like she might be sick. But she didn't hurl. Thank God.