The last few days had been spent in relative peace. For most of her time, she sat at a window overlooking the street below, folded her arms over the sill, rested her chin in front of her, and watched the City. The sense of being wholly removed from the general happenings of life around her had not diminished, but it was surprisingly centering to have a relatively permanent roof over her head here. She didn't need it, of course; she could survive easily in a city like this, and had before. But... there was something about knowing that she was safe... Some of her weariness had begun to fray from around her and drift off into the corners of her mind. There, perhaps - but forgotten for the moment. And yet, this City had very little appeal to her, apart from the obvious high rate of survivability in it.
She knew something was wrong with her. She'd slowly come to the acceptance of this as well. But fixing it... that was an entirely different proposal.
That's what led her to the sidewalk. Perhaps immersing herself in the life around her would help her. She held little hope of ever feeling... human... again. But perhaps she was wrong. It had been known to happen. Maleficent was an obvious example; she'd been wrong about her. In a way. Perhaps not completely wrong in her approach... wrong in her suspicion that Maleficent would have been a threat, though -- yes, that was true.
And this is what her mind was churning over when she felt the attack from behind. She stiffened, and immediately tried to move her arms - but whomever or whatever had her now, it was far stronger than she. A split second after the realization of this, she was being spun in place. A scent from her past - warm leather and an undertone of copper - and she was on her feet again. Still reeling from the movement, from that damned scent, she only managed a half-glimpse at her assailant before he was --
-- oh god. Evey Hammond had not kissed many men, but she knew there was no one who kissed quite like Aidan Waite.
The edges of her vision were swiftly narrowing - as if dark walls were closing in around the world. Until this moment, she never put stock in claims that a bad shock could cause swift unconsciousness. Evey thought the notion ludicrous and dramatic. Ridiculously, the loudest thought in her mind at this moment - this exact moment - was, 'It's true. It's actually true.'
Had she realized she had retained a good British stance - no swaying, no hyperventilation, no damned expression whatsoever - she would have been proud of herself. But following on the heels of her all-consuming revelations, all she could do was watch the world narrow. Aidan Waite seemed very far away.
How is that different from any other moment? she thought to herself, with a hysterical little laugh that never touched daylight.