#story writing
the writerish urge to start a new wip at every given moment then leave it unfinished twenty words in because we won’t finish it anyway.
writing muscle sprains
[@/moonlit_sunflower_books on ig]
i’m a trained dancer and amateur runner, and suffice it to say, i think i have significant experience with muscle strains, be it immobilised shoulders or sprained ankles. and all too often, these are written into books completely unrealistically, whether it’s the quick recovery or over-estimated physical limits.
i’m not a professional writer or a health professional, and most of this is based on research and personal experience, so make sure you do your own research as well. but i hope this helps!
when they happen
there are plenty of ways that one can get a muscle sprain. it could be twisting an ankle if it gets caught on something, or if you overdo weights at the gym, or if you use the wrong form. it’s essentially over-stretching a tendon in the wrong direction, and can cause a ligament tear of different degrees. depending on how it happens, it can be of varying seriousness - for example, a twisted ankle may not be as serious as a third degree ligament tear along the calf.
there’s often immediate pain and a soft popping sound, depending on where and what degree the injury is, but sometimes you don’t even notice you’ve strained something until you try to use the muscle later on.
immediate treatment
rest, ice, compression, elevation, and a whole lot of painkillers are very necessary with muscle strains. it’s probably unlikely that your character can pull their hamstring and hike to a waterfall the next day without passing out six times - with an injured shoulder i struggled a lot writing a two hour exam paper; i don’t want to imagine sword fighting with one.
they’re usually the most painful in the first 72-96 hours, and provided they’re given adequate rest and not overexerted at all, they will get less painful gradually. but keep in mind that the slightest exertion can be very harmful and can make an injury even worse. they need a LOT of rest, a diet with enough protein to rebuild the muscle, and painkillers so that you can function.
long-term treatment
the most recommended treatment is physiotherapy, which both strengthens the muscles and improves mobility. especially when people tend to repeatedly injure the same muscle, this can be really helpful. for example, i used to keep injuring my ankle when i danced or ran, and i saw a physiotherapist who helped me strengthen it!
but every muscle strain takes quite a bit of time to heal - 2 weeks in the best case, but rest for 4-6 weeks is essential for a complete recovery. rest doesn’t necessarily mean full immobilisation, and it’s recommended that you ease yourself back into exercise after 2-3 weeks, but g e n t l y. so if your character sprains their ankle, they can definitely not win a fight the next day without some serious assistance.
long-term effects
most major injuries are simply minor injuries that aren’t given time to heal. if the injury is ignored, it’s going to get much worse. you can use this in your story, because if your character is injured really badly in chapter four, they can suffer in a fight in chapter twenty-five because they didn’t give it the time to heal. not only does it make your writing more realistic, it provides your character with more obstacles and makes their life hell :D
in extreme cases, it could even be harmful for the rest of the person’s life and they may never be able to use the muscle the same way.
we’ve got friends to lovers and friends with benefits and enemies to lovers, so when are we gonna get enemies with benefits?
Warm up sketch, featuring Patty ~
From that moment on I make a promise to both myself and to the frail blonde girl snuggling beneath her mint green comforter-
I will never leave her to face anything alone ever again.
Hunter Morales, Make Me Choose.
I’m afraid. Tangled in a spiders web that I can’t seem to get out of- and I am a fly, waiting to meet my own demise.
Elizabeth Douglas, Make Me Choose.
Lies Or The Truth? | 10
Chapter Ten
Hunter
-
My eyes flutter open abruptly as we drive over a rocky speedbump and I slowly turn my head towards Elizabeth who is driving cautiously. Her eyebrows are in a tight knot as she focuses on the road ahead and I can see the slight worry swimming in her irises, “You’re looking a lot better today… did you manage to sleep okay?” Elizabeth breathes and I shrug my shoulders. Her and I aren’t friends and I would appreciate it if she would stop acting like I am her mate.
“Slept fine.” I answer back, keeping my tone flat. The truth is that I actually didn’t sleep well. My sleep was broken all fucking night and when I did eventually fall asleep I had to get back up again five minutes later for this shitty roadtrip to IKEA. I guess I am to blame for this unwanted journey, I just wish it could have been Glen that escorted me there instead of his sneaky daughter. Speaking of which…
“The guys that jumped me-” I start, my eyes coming to rest on Elizabeth’s features, “-they had my phone number. I thought I was texting you.” I admit, my voice is harsh and I can’t swallow the judgement in my tone. Did she set it all up? I know I haven’t been the nicest person to Elizabeth, hell, we barely tolerate one another but I would never expect this type of low blow from her…
Her sapphire eyes flash to me for a moment before she trains her eyes back onto the road, “That’s weird. Why would they say that?” She mumbles and as expected her tone is hard to read. She doesn’t sound guilty but I can’t exactly just take her word for it, she is known to lie and I refuse to be taken as a fool.
“You tell me.” I try to keep my expressions vacant as I discreetly accuse her of the whole situation but then I realise how unfair that actually is. She was at the gym, waiting for me and I know that she is better than what she seems. I need to stop thinking so lowly of her, there is a good person in there somewhere… However I have to admit that Elizabeth is a hard character to like.
“If you have something to say, Hunter, just say it.” Her voice is a snarl and I chew on the flesh inside of my cheek, “I don’t like being treated like a guilty party.” She adds and I scoff.
“You could have arranged the whole thing for all I fucking know. You definitely aren’t a saint and let’s be honest, you hate me, giving you every damn reason to do some sneaky shit like this.”
The car becomes mute and the drive goes by pretty quickly as we soon pull into the crowded IKEA parking area. I knew that the place would be busy but not to the point where we are at risk of losing the fucking car in the parking lot. I remain tightlipped as Elizabeth and I head for the IKEA entrance, she doesn’t bother to spare me as much as a fucking glance and I return the same cold attitude. Maybe I should’ve just stayed quiet in the car.
As soon as we walk into the huge shopping store I begin to search around for the appliances we need, or if I can’t find those then I will look for an employee that will surely be able to help us, “I’m going to look around, don’t leave without me.” I state clearly to Elizabeth before I decide to wander off in the opposite direction. She takes down one of the aisles and I do that same, passing by multiple tins of paint and some glittery wallpaper. Where the hell would they keep massive sheets of glass? This store is ridiculously big, how do people not get lost in here?
Music plays faintly through the store speakers and I glance around as loads of people root around quickly beside me. I look to the ceiling, trying to catch a glance at the signs that are dangling from the roof rafters. One reads ‘Paints, Pots and Brushes’ and I generally assume that I am standing in the wrong area. Heading deeper into the store I round multiple corners, slipping down each of the large aisles speedily. The scent of charred wood fills my nose and I welcome the smell, it is oddly nice.
I round one last corner and spot Elizabeth chatting with one of the employees. She giggles cutely at something he says and my eyes harden at the sight. Does she know him?
I stride towards the pair, keeping my facial front stony and unfriendly. The guy has mousy blonde hair, his eyes are a bright shade of blue and his arms are boringly plain. I stop a couple of feet away, coughing as I make my presence known. I curve my neck to catch a glance at the males name tag. Etched across the small gold plate it reads 'Dylan’. Even his name is fucking boring, “Did you find the shit?” I ask after both of them turn to face me. Elizabeth’s smile stifles but Dylan’s remains stretched across his stubbly face. His tiny beard is a weird shade of ginger and I am left to wonder what age this guy actually is. I get facial hair but this guy seems slightly older… maybe a year or two.
“My friend, Dylan, was just going to help me, actually. Before you rudely interrupted us.” She sneers and I see her eyes spark with excitement. Is she trying to make me jealous? Because it isn’t working. I grin at my thoughts, “Friend? C'mon, El, you know I’m more than that.” Dylan’s smile turns into a smirk as he flirts with Elizabeth right in front of me and I flex my jaw.
He called her El.
I don’t know why but it maddens me. I don’t even call her that so why does this asshole think he can.
“Well then… hurry the fuck up? I want to leave.” Both of my eyebrows perk up on my forehead and Dylan’s mouth falls into an 'o’ shape. My endurance of bullshit is beginning to quickly expire and I have no interest in starting another fight. Not today.
“You can’t use language like that here, Sir.” The blonde warns and I take a step towards him however Elizabeth plants a firm hand on my chest to stop my movements, “Sorry, Dylan. Help us, please?” She flutters her eyelashes at him and my lips twitch. All she has to do is bat those long eyelashes of hers and she gets exactly what she wants.
Fucking Brat.
Dylan nods and leads us down the correct aisle. Finally we manage to find what we are looking for and we are back in the car in no time. It did take us around six minutes to even locate the vehicle but we were eventually successful.
“I’m guessing Dylan is more than just a 'buddy’…” I half question and Elizabeth snorts at my side, a smirk is toying on her lips and I wish I could wipe her face clean of her cockiness.
“Does it matter?” She urges and I can tell that she is trying to provoke me. Does it matter to me? No. But it might matter to her father if he doesn’t know about it.
“Not to me.” My tone is challenging and she flashes me a nasty look. A look that says, 'what the fuck is that supposed to mean?’
“I know what you are thinking and for your information, not that it is any of your fucking business, but my dad knows Dylan.” Elizabeth scowls darkly at me and I fake gasp, pretending to be shocked at her reply.
“Wow, so you don’t lie all of the time then? Fucking news to me.” I tear my eyes away from her and look out of the window to my left. She scoffs quietly and I bite my bottom lip to suppress my smirk. I like arguing with her.
I gaze at myself in the small side mirror and for a moment I had completely forgotten about the events of last night, the only real proof that it actually happened is my fucked up face, “What happened last night won’t happen again. I’m not going to apologise because I already have but I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to be frightened of me.” As the words leave my mouth I feel my chest begin to ache. I scared her…
“It’s fine. Besides all the damage it wasn’t that big of a deal.” Her shoulders bounce as she shrugs and I keep my gaze rooted on her. There is a drawn out silence that falls between the both of us and I almost think I am hallucinating when I hear Elizabeth say, “When we kissed last week… Do you regret it?” She is guarded and her tongue is icy as she awaits my reply. There is so much I could say. I could hurt her, I could feed her ego or I could just say nothing.
My shoulders stiffen and I tilt my head to look away from her, stamping my eyes closed. I go over the thousands of thoughts coursing through my mind, “Don’t ask me that.” My lips mould around unspoken curses and I can feel my heart beginning to race.
“Just say it.” Her voice is strangled now and I bring my thumb and index finger up to rub at my tired eyes. What am I supposed to say to her? That I like toying with her feelings and leading her on? That I like proving to her that no matter how cold her exterior may be that I can make her melt in seconds? Or maybe I can tell her how much I regret it and how her breath stank like cheese- even though it didn’t. I enjoyed the kiss… it was warm and slow and unlike anything else in my life. But I still regret it, I just don’t know if I have the will to crush her feelings like that. Have I developed a conscience?
“I don’t know what makes you think it was so special. I’ve kissed hundreds of girls before and none of them have pestered me about it the way you do. It was just a kiss, Elizabeth… we were fooling around and it’s not like I fucked you so just get over it.” Almost instantaneously Elizabeth’s shoulders begin to shudder and I have to look twice to realise that she is crying. Water begins to collect at the bottom lid of her eye and her lips start to tremble slightly. A short intake of breath follows her quivering lips and she is quick to wipe away a stray tear that threatens to slide down her cheek. Fuck. I pretend not to notice how her nose has brightened to a soft pink and how her cheeks glisten with the dampness from her tears. I am such a fucking asshole.
“Well, aren’t you just charming.” Elizabeth’s voice is brittle and I frown at the melancholy in her tone. She will get over this, she will get over me. That kiss shouldn’t have meant anything to her, it was a 'in the heat of the moment’ spur and I can’t allow myself to dwell on this for much longer.
Hurts To Hate Somebody | 9
Make Me Choose
Chapter Nine
Hunter
-
A whole week and a handful of late night sessions later, I find myself riddled with regret. The kiss between Elizabeth and I was a mistake, a big mistake. It was merely lust and nothing more. I was feeling alone and she was there- shit happens… it just can’t happen ever again.
Somehow I am cursed with memories of our virtual conversations that consisted of me letting her know I am at the gym and that I am free to train for the evening. Elizabeth’s responses to mine were always ripe with exclamation marks and enthusiasm. After our kiss things got quiet between us for a while though. It always seemed to me that she was trying to develop our ‘relationship’ further, after each lesson she would always text me a quick thank you… it became a recurring habit of hers.
I regret all of it- kissing her, agreeing to train her, complimenting her on her progress and letting my guard down around her. There have been moments when I contemplated blowing her off, lying to her that I am too busy to train her or that I am sick. I wanted excuses to not have to be around her anymore, she is getting beneath my skin and I hate it. I hate her. Even though I heavily considered the thought of ignoring her, she would just come and find me. Her father is my coach after all and Elizabeth is as stubborn as a judge.
This agreement between Elizabeth and I was destined to fail, doomed from the very start- whatever you want to call it. It would be easier if I could consider her a friend but I can’t say that much about her, there is this unspoken friction between her and I. I hate the way she acts and she hates me for imposing on her and her father. I’m not naive, I know how people can be. There are liars, cheaters, believers and I guess I kind of forgot that no one is perfect. None of us are saints, but when I first saw Elizabeth I assumed that she was different- honest and kind, loving and affectionate. Her actions betray her looks, to everybody else she appears to be this preppy school girl that behaves and follows the rules, but when no one is watching she becomes this deviant that sneaks out at night and swears like a sailor. Her personas give me whiplash but it all just intrigues me more. I want to know why she is the way she is and why she feels the need to put up a stupid little facade. I suppose she is just a coward, afraid of the judgement from her peers.
The fact that I know her better than everyone else makes me grin. People on the outside have only scraped the surface of who Elizabeth Douglas actually is and it is amusing. I wonder how Glen would react if he knew about all the shit Elizabeth gets up to.
I check my phone and notice a notification spring onto the cracked screen. It fell out of my pocket the other day and I nearly screamed aloud at the inconvenience but at least it still works and does other shit. I narrow my eyes at the text message, alarm bells fire off inside of my head but I shake the thoughts away.
Unknown: Meet me at the park tonight. I don’t want to walk alone.
Hmm… that’s weird. I have Elizabeth’s number saved into my contacts so why is the number listed as unknown? I try not to overthink it and shrug my shoulders to myself before I grab my coat from the coat wrack. Some other guys are in the gym tonight so I hope that our walk can stall us both a bit before we get back to the building, the last thing we both need is getting spotted together.
Me: Okay, this is Elizabeth right?
I hit send, my paranoia getting the best of me. Maybe she is using a friend’s phone or maybe she has switched to a new number. My thoughts are confirmed as a message pings onto the device.
Unknown: Yes.
I stare at the notification for a dragged moment, slightly suspicious and equally as hesitant. It seems strange… something is off about how she is replying. I blame the peculiar pattern on the fact that she may have just had a bad day and I head out to the park. The streets have fallen dark and I keep my headphones volume low, you never know what might sneak up behind you. The walk is quick and the pathways I take are sinisterly quiet, I just hope that she hasn’t been waiting for me for too long, New York isn’t always safe at night.
I meet the park entrance but as I gaze into the public garden I see that it is empty. I pull one of my headphones from my ear canal and search further into the park. Has something happened to her? Holy shit, what would I tell Glen? What if she is hurt? Fuck.
The park is foggy with nightfall and only one singular streetlamp shines into the area. An oppressive darkness seems to swallow humanity. The wind whistles through the bare tree branches and the only noise I can identify is the music playing through my speakers and the winter breeze blowing the loose leaves on the park floor. I struggle to see clearly and I whip my head over my shoulder. I am glad I do because I see a dark figure sitting close by on a bench, that must be her.
Thank fucking God.
I edge closer to her, a relieved smile picks at my lips but I keep it hidden.
“Jeez, stalker, do you have to look like such a murderer?” I joke with a breathy laugh but she is silent. Someone is clearly not in the mood, however, the longer I stand and stare at her the clearer my sight becomes, my eyes finally managing to adjust to the darkness.
My blood runs cold at the realisation that this isn’t even Elizabeth at all. This is a dude… a shady one.
What the fuck?
I step away from the figure, waving a hand absently at him as I go to excuse myself, “Sorry, mate.”
I try to prepare for whatever may happen next, he has a massive advantage here. It is dark and he may have a weapon that I can’t even see.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I’m not afraid but I realise that I don’t have many options. I have my fists, that I am good at using, but what if he has a gun? A knife? Either one and I am fucking screwed. Briskly I head towards whatever slither of light that I can see, if this guy is going to be any trouble then I need to see what I am up against. A quiet notification sound rings through my headphones, interrupting the song I am listening to and I glance down at the screen for a moment. My heartbeat intensifies and I feel my palms begin to clam.
Elizabeth: Where the hell are you? I thought we were training tonight? I’m at the gym waiting on you and you aren’t even here. You are a dick if you are blowing me off Morales.
The puzzle pieces begin to click together and I chew on the inside of my cheek. If Elizabeth is at the gym waiting then who the fuck texted me earlier? A loud rush of movement comes from behind me and when I turn around I see the hidden figure from earlier sprinting towards me. Before I have any time to swing a punch I am tackled to the floor, wrestling with this man that I don’t even know. Only seconds later he is joined by two other masked accomplices and I take a heavy boot to my face. The hit takes me off guard and the world becomes shaken. My face is wet with blood and I spit onto the concrete, groaning as I manage to push the man from earlier off of me. I attempt to rise to my feet quickly but it doesn’t take long for the thugs to regain control as one of them grabs me from behind and holds me tightly to their chest as the other two whack feeble punches into my torso.
“Fucking pussies, does it take this many of you to leave a mark?” I snarl, my thoughts are homicidal and I have to keep myself from seeing red. These asshole have no fucking idea who they are messing with.
They don’t take my words lightly as they smack me across the face and my knees threaten to buckle beneath me. Usually these types of punches don’t phase me but when brass knuckles are involved…
I struggle with the man that is holding me captive until I finally manage to break loose. Without any further thought or hesitation I start swinging. I don’t have time to be strategic and I am too fucking angry to care about what I am doing and how my form is. I catch one of the guy’s jaws and he flies to the floor, his head first and then his body follows.
“C'mon then!” I say, my temper growing, “Fucking come on!!” My hands are in tight fists as I scream, fury has taken the reigns over all of my emotions and I charge towards the two men that remain standing. My face may be dripping with blood but I can assure you that my adrenaline hasn’t allowed me to feel a damn thing in the past 5 minutes. The two chumps split from one another and run in the opposite direction. I go to chase after them but I am torn between following them or beating the guy that is already on the ground to death. Neither of which happen because to my dismay the guy from the floor has also taken off and I am left shaking with anger.
I let out a roar, listening as the sound empties out into the deserted streets. I start to pace back and forth, my breathing is unsettled and I can’t help the tingling feeling that is coursing through my veins. I pick up my phone from the ground and shove the shattered device into my pocket. I don’t care about the headphone wire that is dangling from my pocket. I need to get to the gym, I need to ask Elizabeth how all of this shit happened. How did they asshole get my number and why the fuck did they set me up?
My nostrils flare and I struggle to take in air. I can feel the bruises beginning to mature on my skin and they are fucking painful. I want to lose my shit, I want to go fucking mental and beat the living shit out of something, or someone.
I throw myself through the gym doors and earn the attention of everyone in the building. Elizabeth walks to me cautiously, her face twisting from anger to pure horror, “What on earth happened to you?” she asks and I push past her and head to one of the punching bags. I fire some rapid blows to the sandbag but it isn’t enough, I need more. The sting on my knuckles kindles an unjustified incandescent feeling inside of my chest and I grab the first thing close to my hand and crash it to the floor. Gasps follow my actions but I don’t care, the chaos feels good and I’m not stopping until I’m fully satisfied. I pick up a small weight from the weight wrack and use my entire body to launch it to the wall, shattering the whole mirror in the process. Shards of sharp glass fly across the room and people duck for cover as the deadly points hit the floor.
“Stop it!” Elizabeth squeals with a plea as she marches towards me but I ignore her and continue on with my episode. I flip over one of the benches and stomp some heavy blasts into the wood, each heavy footstep is punctuated by an angry grunt “Please! You are scaring me!” Elizabeth is sobbing now and my movements still. My chest feels crazy as I breathe a little too quickly and my eyes land on her as my mind begins to clear. I glance around and notice one of the other female attendees on the phone, I assume that they have called the police.
“Shit.” I whisper and tears prick my eyes as I look at the destruction I have caused to Glen’s gym. This is going to cost hundreds to fix. I blacked out, I did whatever I could to distract myself from my anger and I endangered everyone in the process.
Flashing blue lights flood the gym and my panic filled eyes meet Elizabeth, “Go and wait out the back, I’ll talk to them. Everyone go home!” She rounds up everyone from inside of the gym and I do as she says and head to the back of the building.
My heart is in my throat as I wait for Elizabeth to return. When I swallow it feels like razor blades scraping the flesh of my windpipe. What the hell is wrong with me? I never get that angry. Never. Not in matches, not in training and definitely not outside of the ring. Her face… she was terrified of me. Shakily I bring my hand up to wipe at the dry blood on my face and no matter how hard I try I can’t keep the sob from leaving my throat. My brain is in survival mode and I don’t know what to feel or what to do. I know I need to apologise but how can I possibly excuse the shitstorm I just caused?
After a couple of minutes Elizabeth’s small physique ambles towards me and I walk to meet her halfway, “What did they say?” I ask, my voice hoarse. She shakes her head and folds her arms around her torso, something I have noticed she does often.
“They didn’t say anything once I confirmed that my dad was the owner. I told them the call was a false alarm and they left.” She makes sure to keep her distance from me and I don’t blame her for being afraid, what I did was totally out of character and wrong.
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth… some guys jumped me and I guess I just couldn’t handle it.” I sniffle softly to stop my nose from running, the cold air irritating my sinuses.
“Don’t apologise to me. Apologise to my dad. You just destroyed his gym, this is how he makes money and now he will have to close the gym until things are repaired. Do you understand how selfish your actions were? You put everyone at risk because you couldn’t handle your own fucking emotions. Your excuses don’t give you the right to be a fucking asshole.” Her words infuriate me but I shove the emotion down deep, anger hasn’t gotten me anywhere tonight and I don’t plan on anything else unfolding. I step towards her but she backs away and I stop immediately.
“I’m not going to hurt you…” I promise and she sighs softly, seeming defeated, “I’m just sorry for everything. For frightening you and for everything before that.” My expression is sincere and she gives me a nod of recognition.
“Anger makes you stupid and stupidity gets you killed.” I try to ignore the gravity of her words but they weigh on my chest so tightly that I struggle to breathe, “My dad is on his way here… he is going to be distraught when he gets here and I hope you have the money to pay for the damage.” She pauses briefly and turns away from me, “I’ll see you back inside. You should get cleaned up.” She gestures to my face and heads back into the gym. I trail in after her and head to the bathroom. The person I see staring back at me in the mirror shakes me to my core. My eyes are bloodshot and beneath my right eye is beginning to turn purple. My lips tremble together, the skin crusty from dried blood and the cold winter air outside. My dark hair is twisted messily, my nose is busted open and my jacket is stained vermilion. I look like total shit.
I toss my jacket by the sink and bow my head close to the faucet. Turning it on I splash my face with some warm water and watch as the rusty brown colour streams from my skin. My knuckles are grazed as well as bruised and I hiss as the water hits the cuts, washing it clean of any unwanted debris. Next time I lose a fight I am making sure I see the faces of my attackers. Everything happened so fucking fast and even if I did see their faces it is unlikely that I would be able to remember any details. Now it is time to face the music and as much as I am dreading it I need to own up to what I have done. This is going to fracture Glen’s heart. He has been trying so hard to get the gym up and running and just when it was beginning to get popular I went and fucked the whole thing up.
I emerge from the bathroom, my dark denim jacket is draped over my forearm as I enter back into the training area. Glen has his hands on his hips as he examines the damage and I cringe at the devastation I have created, “Coach…” I call for him quietly and he turns to me. Luckily my white t-shirt doesn’t have any spotting on it and I hope I have cleaned myself up to look the tiniest bit presentable, “I’ll pay for all of it. I’ll pay for all of it, I… I’ll go to IKEA tomorrow and I’ll pick up another sheet of glass for the wall, just give me the measurements and I’ll go first thing tomorrow morning.” I ramble and Glen steps closer to me, his arms come to wrap around my shoulders and he pulls me into a tight hug.
“It’s okay, H.” His large hand pats me on the back and I reluctantly wrap my arms around him. My body shakes with pain, I try to control it but I am unsuccessful, “Elizabeth told me everything. She is going to go with you tomorrow to pick up the new glass and some adhesive to attach it to the wall.” Glen pulls away from me and I nod my head, remaining silent and full of shame.
I’m quick to grab a sweeping brush and a dust pan, beginning to tidy up the mess I have made. Glen lends a hand and so does Elizabeth before they both head home for the night and I disappear to my cold sleeping bag upstairs.
Alone.
