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[sup][h1][center][color=black] R H Y S  H A Y E S[/color]
[color=red]R H Y S  H A Y E S[/color][/center][/h1][/sup]
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[indent] He stood on the edge of the pool, soaked. The blood had stained his clothing and it made him uncomfortable as he stood dripping poolwater into the tiles beside the woman on the ground. He wasn't sure if he was slightly trembling due to the water, or what he had just witnessed and done. His hands went up to his buttons, as the urge to take off his bloody and stained shirt became overwhelming. Fumbling slightly with the buttons, the tried to ignore the sinking feeling he had that the woman he had just pooled out of the pool didn't have a pulse anymore as he dragged her along. The whirlwind that was his dance partner landed on her knees beside the woman, claiming she was a doctor. He blinked, thankful that there was a medical professional, but somewhere deep inside him, he wished she didn't have to do this. That she didn't have to try and resuscitate a woman that Rhys was increasingly sure was dead. His soggy shirt landed beside his feet and he treaded a slightly unsteady hand through his hair as he watched the scene unfold. 

Watching Delaney's hair bob around in her quick bun, and watched as people around them distanced, shocked murmurs going around. The music had been cut off, and the silence from it was eery. Some people started filming on their phones, and a flare of anger rattled through Rhys his body, balling his fists. People had the fucking' audacity. But he kept watching, seeing the woman he sat next to earlier offer her help to Delaney. Maybe she was someone medical, too? His eyes softened at it, and his jaw unlocked. One of Delaney's kicked-off shoes rolled into the pool in the turmoil, and Rhys shook his head. 

A tap on his shoulder made him look over it, and someone handed him his phone that he discarded earlier. [color=E59866]"Thanks."[/color] He said to the woman, and looked back at the scene in front of him. He roamed over the woman's tattered clothes and unmoving chest. She had been dead before he pulled her out, he was sure of it. He wound on her shoulder... it looked like someone had [i]bitten[/i] her. What the actual fuck could have happened? This night took a turn, and not the turn Rhys wished it to take.

Where were the employees? Lifeguards? Rhys tried to convince himself he was a fool. He knew nothing of saving people from drowning and thus when he presumed her dead, maybe Delaney could bring her back. People came back from drownings, right? Paired with some vomiting up of water, everything would be peachy. Rhys's lips pressed into a line as he recognised his own gaslighting attempt. Then the Asian woman spoke again, catching Rhys's attention. His eyes went over her briefly. He recognised it now, that had to be a Japanese accent. One of Willow's university friends had the same. His attention went to the woman on the ground, who jerked. Had Delaney's attempts worked? Though, his relief was quickly obliterated by the terror of the 3-seconds-ago-hella-dead woman who seemed to attack his dance partner. Attack, like a rabid dog. Rabies? He could practically hear the woman's molars crash together with a nasty bite.

[color=E59866]"Delaney!"[/color] Surprised by his own fast acting, Rhys dashed forward, grabbing the woman by the arm and pulling her off the blonde. The act, and his slippery wet shoes, made him fall backwards on his ass and he let go of the woman's arm. At least she was off the doctor though, but two milky clouded eyes settled on him and she... snarled. What the fuck? Rhys started to scamper backwards, looking around for... what actually? Help? A weapon? He couldn't pommel a wounded woman, right?
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