In the midst of a breakdown enough to eclipse nearly anything else inside her, Quinn was suddenly given [i]direction.[/i]

"[color=skyblue]We should go. Back to the dorms, or the gardens. Somewhere else. Somewhere quiet. This...this isn't good for you.[/color]"

There was something so intensely pathetic about how comforting it felt, how natural it seemed, to be told what to do. She hated it. She hated it so much, she [i]knew[/i] that she should hate it. But in that moment, there was something so normal about it, so [i]soothing[/i]. Like a deep breath after surfacing from the bottom of the well. She hated it. She hated it more than anything. 

She loved it anyway.

So, lost and confused and head full of thunder, she latched on.

Dahlia was right. It [i]was[/i] loud in here. Or maybe not [i]loud[/i], so much as [i]overwhelming[/i]. Crowded and busy and people were staring at them. With a great deal of effort, she hauled her head up from where it sat, doing her best to wipe the tears off even as they kept flowing.

"[color=ffe63d]Dorms,[/color]" she somehow whimpered and whispered at the same time, squeezing her sister's hand a little harder. "[color=ffe63d]Let's go back to the dorms.[/color]" She was still shaking, but she managed to keep her eye open now, and she thought that maybe her legs had steadied themselves enough for her to walk now, at least enough to get back to her room. "[color=ffe63d]I want to lie down for a while.[/color]"