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down.
    Then
it came flooding back, making me feel an awful cocktail of anger,
fear, regret, and shame that made me dizzy. I crawled across the
floor to the padded stool in front of my sink, pulling myself up onto
it and looking at myself in the mirror.
    It
wasn't pretty.
    My
hair, as per usual, even without a bed to roll around in, was a mess.
It had fought the confines of my hair tie and there were wavy strands
falling around my face. My lips looked swollen with a hint of purple
beneath the pink. Easy enough to cover up with a little lipstick. My
throat was red and purple and blue. A pretty rainbow band completely
across the front, tapering off to visible fingerprints at one end. My
eyes looked bloodshot. I turned on the tap, washing my hands,
pretending to ignore the blue bands around my wrists, then scrubbing
at my face. I furiously brushed my teeth to try to get the taste of
him out.
    I
stood up, noticing I was barefoot and completely at a loss for how
that might have happened. I needed a clock and some coffee. How much
time had I actually lost?
    The
smell of fresh coffee hit me as soon as I stepped into the hallway
and I instinctively retreated a foot back into the bathroom before
taking a deep breath and realizing that Fourteen must not have left.
    Hunter.
I should start thinking of him by his name since he saved me from
pretty definite rape only a few hours before. And then brought me
back to my apartment when I was in some kind of PTSD daze. Where he
had laid me on the floor and... oh fuck. He'd seen the self-injury
scars. Great. That was just great. Now I was going to get his damn
sympathy. I didn't need that shit. Little did he know, my digging
blades into my skin was a hell of a lot less traumatic than what
drove me to do it in the first place.
    Oh
well. I was going to have to face him sooner or later. It would be
good to just rip the bandage off and get on with me day. I'll take a
cab home from now on when I come home in the morning. No biggie.
Future crises averted.
    I
took a deep breath and headed into the hallway, not caring about my
crazy hair and smudged eye makeup. I wasn't trying to impress my
neighbor. Besides, I needed to face him so I could kick him out and
get ready for my day.
    He
was in my kitchen, sitting on top of my counter, drinking coffee out
of one of my mugs and reading a newspaper that was definitely not
mine. “Just make yourself at home,” I grumbled, reaching
for a coffee cup and filling it.
    “I
picked up some bagels,” he said, gesturing toward the brown bag
on the counter. “I didn't know what kind you liked so I picked
up a variety.”
    I
felt my eyebrows draw together. He... went out and bought me bagels?
Why the hell would he do that? “Why?”
    “They're
not free. I want payment in sex,” he said, looking over when I
didn't laugh. His brows drew lower over his eyes like he couldn't
understand why I was asking.
    I
reached in the bag, searching around. Maybe it said something about
the company I kept that such a small act of kindness like picking up
breakfast after a somewhat traumatic event, was shocking. And since I
only kept my own company... it said something about me. About how
messed up I was. I dug out an egg bagel, all plump and yellow. “Thank
you,” I said, the words sounding clumsy on my tongue.
    He
nodded. “There's cream cheese and butter in those little
containers,” he said, gesturing to the throw away condiment
containers on the counter. I bowed my head as I cut open the bagel
and spread butter on it. He watched me the whole time, his head
turned toward the side looking at me, no doubt, like I didn't make
sense. I knew I didn't. “You alright?” he asked after I
had chewed a small bite.
    I
shrugged a shoulder. Non-committal. Unwilling to admit I was just
pushing this morning's events into the vault with all the others.
Just more things to drown at the bottom of a bottle. Just more things
to spend my life running away from facing. “I've had