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[color=808080][color=962929][b]#962929[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [b]hell's angel[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/jx1gmM6][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [color=bdddff][b]#bdddff[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [b]polar[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/TgvoXYF][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]myla's penthouse[/b][/color]
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[indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080]The elevator doors opened to the eerie silence of Myla’s penthouse. She didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. Instead her hand gently rested against the small of Bellamy’s back as she guided her inside. She led the girl patiently into the living room until she stood before the sofa, then lightly pressed down on her shoulders so that she would sit. Myla left her there as she wandered over to the kitchen. She drew in one short breath, letting her nose guide her to a cabinet beside the fridge. Upon opening it, she found an assortment of liquors. Without prejudice, she snagged one of the bottles and two glasses from an adjacent cabinet. 

After pouring them both a healthy sized drink, Myla returned to the living room, sitting down on the coffee table opposite Bellamy and held out one of the glasses toward her. [color=962929]"Drink… All of it,"[/color] she instructed gently with a small reassuring nod. She followed her own instructions and downed the contents in one gulp. [i]Bourbon. Gross.[/i] Her face contorted in disgust with a displeased [i]bleh,[/i] before setting down the empty glass beside her. 

[color=962929]"So…"[/color] Myla sighed softly, leaning forward to rest her elbows against her knees, then laced her fingers together. [color=962929]"I’m not going to claim to know what you’re going through, because everyone’s story is different, and I don’t want to cheapen your struggles with my own."[/color] She reached up, pulling the sunglasses from her face and setting them aside, having forgotten that she never took the time to warn Bellamy about her blindness. Milky white eyes flicked back and forth in the girl’s general direction, but never focused or settled in one place for long. [color=962929]"But I do believe—out of everyone in this godforsaken tower—"[/color] She shook her head in quiet disbelief. [color=962929]"—that I have some understanding of what you’re going through,"[/color] she offered softly, like an olive branch of more than just friendship, but understanding. 

[color=962929]"I was attacked two nights ago,"[/color] Myla continued, sharing her own experiences in a way that was far more personal than an inquisition in a room full of people she didn’t know. [color=962929]"And if it wasn’t for Theo, I would have been taken or killed too. He saved me, just like Tobias saved you."[/color] She rubbed her palms together slowly, trying to find her words one step at a time. [color=962929]"I don’t claim to know him well, but he seems like a man of conviction. And men like Theo and Tobias don’t do anything they don’t want to... It’s… [i]easy[/i] to blame ourselves because we’re weaker than them."[/color] She nodded her head with a slow recognition that said she knew what she spoke of on a level far deeper than she let on. 

[color=962929]"I just…"[/color] Myla sighed softly, reaching out to rest her hand on top of Bellamy’s. [color=962929]"I’m telling you this because I don’t want the guilt to eat you alive. I’m sure he’ll be able to pep talk you better than I can. I’ve never been very good at it,"[/color] she confessed with a tired laugh that showed, in some way or another, that she was trying. [color=962929]"But coming from the [i]least[/i] useful person in this tower, I get what it’s like to feel like a burden to those who are on an entirely different level. It’s [i]really[/i] hard not to feel guilty about it… I still do."[/color] She shrugged her shoulders with a lopsided smile that said she had been trying to get over it, and was very unsuccessful. [color=962929]"The best way I’ve learned to cope is by letting the toxic part of myself relish in how [i]incredibly[/i] hot it is having a guy go all feral murderer for you,"[/color] she added unapologetically as a guilty and mischievous smile grew across her face. Myla’s voice then dropped to little more than a whisper as she leaned forward like she was sharing a secret. [color=962929]"Because it’s [i]really[/i] hot."[/color]

Bellamy accepted the glass without thinking, fingers curling around the cool surface while her thoughts churned somewhere far away, caught between Tobias disappearing into the lift and blood staining the floor behind him. The liquid burned the moment it hit her tongue. Heat dragged down her throat like fire, sharp enough to make her eyes water, and she immediately folded in on herself coughing into the bend of her arm. Tears sprang to her lashes as she sucked in a startled breath, shoulders shaking through a few miserable splutters before she stared down into the empty glass in mild betrayal. Somewhere through the sting and warmth crawling through her chest, she became dimly aware of Myla's eyes, of the soft cloudy white of them, and surprise flickered quietly across her face before settling away again without question or discomfort. Her thumb found the bracelet around her wrist almost immediately after, spinning it slowly beneath nervous fingers while she listened.

The metal rolled back and forth against her skin in steady little motions while Myla spoke, and Bellamy held onto every word more carefully than she realized. The room felt softer than the conference room had, quieter too, and somewhere between Theo and Tobias and guilt and burdens, the tightness wrapped around her ribs loosened little by little. Then Myla leaned forward with that guilty little grin and whispered her confession, and Bell blinked at her once before a surprised laugh escaped her. It slipped out suddenly and bright, catching her off guard as much as anything else had today, and her hand flew to her mouth while warmth spread across her cheeks. The tension bled from her shoulders with it, leaving behind something lighter, something exhausted and aching and human.

[color=bdddff]"Thank you,"[/color] she murmured softly, looking down into her lap as her fingers rolled the bracelet around her wrist once more. The smile faded slowly into something smaller and sadder as her eyes drifted back toward the tiny amber pool left in the bottom of the glass. [color=bdddff]"I just... that's twice now he's gotten hurt because of me, and I'm not..."[/color] Her voice caught for a second before she swallowed and forced herself onward. [color=bdddff]"I'm not like any of you. I can't fight. I want to, but I don't even know where to start."[/color] Bellamy tipped the glass slightly, watching the last little bit of bourbon slide across the bottom..

Myla’s smile curled on one side, tight lipped and sympathetic. [color=962929]"Unfortunately, it’s likely to happen a lot more. Theo and I have been trying to hold New York together for nearly a year together… And I can’t tell you how many times we’ve gotten hurt protecting each other. I’ve lost count."[/color] She shook her head, brunette hair brushing along her shoulders and cheeks softly. [color=962929]"I imagine a lot of us will get hurt, but if we find the heroes that were taken, save others before they’re taken… even if it’s one single life… I don’t know."[/color] She sighed softly, lifting her shoulders in a heavy shrug. [color=962929]"Seems worth it from my perspective."[/color]

She couldn’t help but laugh at Bellamy’s last comment. It wasn’t mean or poking fun, but more of a sad sort of irony. Her fingers ran back through her hair, tucking brown curls behind her ears before she continued. [color=962929]"You’re a mutant, and a powerful one from what I know,"[/color] Myla replied plainly, because it was the truth. [color=962929]"I can’t claim to understand what it takes to hone powers like that. I imagine Tobias and Imogen would be more knowledgeable there. But you’re still [i]leagues[/i] above people like me. You just don’t know it."[/color]

[color=962929]"As for fighting…"[/color] Her voice trailed off, palms turning upwards as she shrugged. [color=962929]"That’s… complicated."[/color] Myla tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and squinted her eyes as she tried to figure out how to categorize it, because it was all so different between each of them. [color=962929]"I’m sure someone has found a much better way to break this down than me… But fighting and combat is like a spectrum. People like Magni and Tobias are raw power, all offense. Attack. Attack. Attack. Then Jim and June are smart, strategic… They use the environment and gadgets. And me? Well…"[/color] 

Her right hand lifted and scratched at the back of her head. She never really had to put any of this into words before. She had enough experience to know that everyone approached combat differently, but she never had to organize different heroes into neat piles like she was writing a thesis. [color=962929]"I’m just a martial artist. I use my enhanced senses and blindness to my advantage… but it only goes so far. I could [i]probably[/i] beat someone like Tobias in a strictly hand to hand fight, use his strength against him and wear him out, but I mean you saw it downstairs… Luke only got as far as he did because Tobias let him."[/color]

She lightly clapped her hands together. [color=962929]"But I can help you train if you’re wanting to learn. You’re small like me, so we could start with self defense and moves where you can use your opponent’s strength or size against them… It’ll take a lot of work. I’ve trained daily for years and still have plenty to learn. But if you’re willing to try…"[/color] Her head lulled to the side slightly, a devious little smile tugging at her mouth once again. [color=962929]"I’m sure we could rope the boys into being our test dummies,"[/color] she added with a soft laugh, before abruptly shutting herself down, eyes widening as she shook her hands slightly. [color=962929]"You know, [i]after[/i] Tobias heals."[/color]

Bellamy listened quietly, fingers still circling the bracelet around her wrist in small repetitive motions that had begun to feel as necessary as breathing. The metal slid against her skin over and over while Myla spoke about powers and fighting and all the different ways people survived violence. Part of her wanted to believe her, desperately so, but another part kept catching on the memory of ice exploding across bathroom walls and Tobias bleeding because she’d frozen in place instead of helping. Power meant very little when it slipped through her fingers every time her emotions cracked open. The thought sat bitter on her tongue while she stared down at the amber stain left in the bottom of her glass.

Still, Myla kept talking to her like she was worth the effort. Not fragile. Not pathetic. Just… inexperienced. Bellamy wasn’t used to that sort of kindness from strangers, especially not from people who looked like they belonged in this world of heroes and disasters and impossible choices. Her throat tightened around it unexpectedly. She twisted the bracelet once more, then let her hand fall still in her lap as she finally realized she’d barely spoken at all through Myla’s entire explanation.

[color=bdddff]"That—That’s a good plan,"[/color] she managed softly, the words catching a little on their way out. Heat crept into her cheeks again, and she ducked her head instinctively even if Myla couldn’t see it. [color=bdddff]"I’d really like that. Thank you… you—you’re being so nice."[/color] The last part came out quieter, almost embarrassed, because Bellamy wasn’t entirely sure what she’d done to deserve patience from any of them, let alone someone willing to spend hours helping train her from the ground up.

For the first time since arriving at the tower, the future in front of her felt slightly less shapeless. Not fixed. Not safe. But there was structure to it now, however fragile. Training. Learning control. Maybe becoming someone who could stand beside people like Tobias instead of constantly being dragged behind them bleeding and terrified. Bellamy drew in a slow breath and let it settle deep in her lungs, holding onto that thought carefully, like something small and warm cupped between cold hands. 

Myla’s smile grew, soft and sincere in a way she had rarely let show since she had stepped into the tower unless she was alone with Theo. She shrugged her shoulders faintly, pinning her hands lightly between her knees. [color=962929]"I’m not as big of a bitch as some of the people here like to think. Although, in their defense, I haven’t made the best first impression either,"[/color] she mused with a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. [color=962929]"This place can feel kinda suffocating and I thought you might like a friend who understands a little bit of what you’re going through,"[/color] she added with a guilty, tired chuckle. [color=962929]"I know I could."[/color]

With one last sigh, Myla ran her hands along her thighs. [color=962929]"Alright, well enough of that depressing shit. We’ve had enough of that today,"[/color] she mused, pushing off her knees and standing back up. [color=962929]"Let’s see if we can find you some clothes."[/color] She nodded her head in the general direction of the bedroom, before starting to make her way down the hall assuming that Bellamy would trail behind her. 

After she stepped through the doorway, Myla stopped, furrowing her brows as she ran her hand along the wall. It took her a couple seconds before she found the switch, followed by the soft buzz of electricity flowing through the lights. [color=962929]"Sorry. I never really bothered to figure out where the lights were."[/color] She laughed and stepped toward the closet, repeating the process a second time. It wasn’t until that moment that she forgot how big of a disaster the closet was. Her duffel bag sat in the middle of the small room, clothes thrown out in every direction like a bomb went off. [color=962929]"Yeah, I totally forgot about that,"[/color] she apologized, scratching the back of her head. 

[color=962929]"Would it be insanely rude of me to ask for help sorting it? I had a system back home but I kind of packed in a hurry… And I don’t trust a man to know the difference between matching colors,"[/color] she mused with a single shouldered shrug. [color=962929]"Not that Theo wouldn’t help, because he would… But he also put me in a Grinch t-shirt in the middle of September."[/color] Myla snorted softly as she slowly walked into the closet and lowered to her knees. Her fingers ran across the various fabrics, separating pieces of clothing by texture and type as best she could based on her memory and shape. 

Something in Bellamy eased at those words. Not because they solved anything, but because they were offered so simply, without expectation or obligation attached to them. A friend. The word settled warmly somewhere beneath her ribs, and for the first time since arriving at the tower it didn't feel quite so enormous around her. Her smile lingered a little longer this time, small but genuine, and she found herself following after Myla without the hesitation that usually accompanied meeting someone new. There was a steadiness to her, something grounded and unpretentious, and Bellamy felt herself gravitating toward it as naturally as she might step toward a fire on a cold night.

The state of the bedroom immediately pulled a startled laugh from her. Her gaze swept over the rumpled blankets, the displaced pillows, and finally the closet that looked as though it had been attacked by a particularly aggressive tornado. Clothes sprawled across nearly every available surface, some half folded, most decidedly not, and the sight felt oddly comforting after the sterile perfection of the tower. It looked lived in. Human. Bellamy pressed her lips together against another smile as she stepped around a shirt lying abandoned near the doorway, it looked like it belonged to Theo. There was a cat wearing sunglasses on it, with what looked to be an atomic bomb going off behind it.

[color=bdddff]"I don't mind,"[/color] she replied quickly, sincerity threading through every word as she lowered herself onto the floor beside Myla. The carpet was soft beneath her legs, and she reached automatically for the nearest pile of clothing. [color=bdddff]"I don't think I'd trust him to organize it either, to be fair."[/color] Her thoughts drifted briefly toward Theo's shirt from earlier, and a grin tugged openly at the corners of her mouth before she could stop it. [color=bdddff]"Honestly, after seeing that shirt, I think the idea of a Grinch shirt should be the least of your worries."[/color]

[color=962929]"[i]Oh no,[/i]"[/color] Myla groaned under her breath while her right hand rubbed at the back of her neck. [color=962929]"Was it that bad? I know I [i]said[/i] I didn’t want to know… But now I’m concerned."[/color] She laughed softly as she tried to sort clothes the best she could: silky blouses in one pile, breathable athletic clothes in another, and so on. 

Bellamy's grin widened despite herself, and she ducked her head as she folded another shirt into a neat square. The image of Theo sitting in that conference room drifted back into her mind, and she pressed her lips together against another laugh. For the first time all day, the weight on her chest felt a little lighter.

[color=bdddff]"I don't think you want to know, trust me,"[/color] she said, fighting a smile as she looked at the pile of clothes. [color=bdddff]"Let's just say it was... memorable."[/color]

[color=962929]"[i]Oh god,[/i]"[/color] Myla groaned, but there was no anger behind it, just the affectionate frustration that bloomed whenever Theo was unapologetically Theo.

Bellamy picked up a sweater and smoothed the fabric between her fingers before setting it into a small pile beside her knee. The simple act of sorting gave her hands something useful to do, and the familiar rhythm settled some of the lingering nervous energy still humming beneath her skin. [color=bdddff]"What system did you have back home?"[/color] she asked softly, glancing toward Myla as she reached for another garment. [color=bdddff]"We can try to copy it. Or improve it. Though looking at this, I think we might need a battle plan first."[/color] A quiet, shy laugh slipped from her, easier now than it had been all day, and for a fleeting moment she felt almost normal sitting there on the floor with someone who already felt a little like a friend.

Myla slowly lowered herself further until she settled fully on the ground with her legs crossed beneath her. [color=962929]"My uncle’s ex bought a lot of my clothes—[i]she treated me like her own personal barbie doll,[/i]"[/color] she added with a small shrug that was a little annoyed, but she honestly didn’t mind too much. Marci must have had impeccable taste because she was constantly complimented and it meant she didn’t have to worry about trying to make halfway decent outfits. [color=962929]"I know most of it should [i]technically[/i] match to limit the possibility of a fashion hate crime."[/color] Her smile curled softly, creasing the corners of milky white eyes. 

[color=962929]"I normally just kind of pre-planned outfits. So I could just grab and go."[/color] While Myla tried her best to explain it, her hands motioned around the closet toward the various piles. [color=962929]"I didn’t really mean to bring business clothes. I haven’t really had a job for the past year, but I packed in a rush."[/color] She shrugged her shoulders slightly. [color=962929]"We could just pair a blouse with a skirt or whatever and kinda shove them toward the back of the closet. Jeans and shirts that go with jeans probably don’t really need to be matched, and I think all of my athletic clothes are sets."[/color] Her lips pursed slightly as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. 

Then she snapped her finger, remembering something she forgot, and leaned across the small room to grab her Hell’s Angel suit. As she pulled it closer a handful of batons fell to the ground with a thunk. There were the wooden and runic engraved Yggdrasil batons that were her dads and then her regular ones, both covered in dried blood from when she was attacked. [color=962929]"I’ll clean those later,"[/color] she commented, inhaling sharply as she shoved them aside with a dismissive swipe of her hand, before folding up her suit and setting it on an easily accessible shelf along with her helmet. [color=962929]"Otherwise if you see anything you like or think will fit, just put it in a separate pile. I promise I won’t miss it."[/color] 

A second passed and before she managed to grab another piece of clothing, she leaned back and scooped up a pair of sneakers that looked practically brand new. [color=962929]"Here,"[/color] Myla offered, holding out the shoes toward Bellamy with a small wiggle. [color=962929]"My other ones got blood on them from training,"[/color] she explained with a sheepish laugh. [color=962929]"These have barely been worn though."[/color]

Bellamy listened with the sort of attention that came naturally when someone was explaining something practical, something she could hold in her hands and work through one piece at a time. Her fingers toyed absently with the hem of Tobias’s oversized jacket while she mentally sorted piles before they even existed, matching colours and fabrics in her head as Myla spoke. The image of some poor woman treating Myla like a living doll tugged a small smile from her, and she ducked her head to hide it before she remembered that wasn’t necessary with Myla, chewing lightly on her bottom lip while she considered which shelves would work best for everyday clothes versus things that only needed to be worn once in a blue moon. For the first time since arriving at the tower, her thoughts were occupied by something pleasantly ordinary.

The sight of blood pulled her attention away from the closet and toward the battered suit lying nearby. Bellamy's gaze lingered there for a second longer than she intended, tracing dried stains across dark fabric before it shifted to the trainers Myla was holding out toward her. [color=bdddff]"Oh,"[/color] she murmured softly, blinking in surprise as she accepted them with both hands. [color=bdddff]"Are—Are you sure? I'm sure I could order stuff and just..."[/color] The words faded as she glanced down at her own feet, clad in only socks, her shoes ruined and sitting by the door of her room, soaked through with mud and forest grime and everything that had happened that night. [color=bdddff]"I... thank you."[/color] Her voice softened around the words, thick with emotion she was trying very hard to keep under control as she blinked rapidly against the sudden sting behind her eyes.

[color=962929]"Yeah, of course,"[/color] Myla responded as if the matter was settled before they ever set foot in her penthouse. 

Bellamy set the shoes carefully beside her knee, treating them with a level of care usually reserved for something far more valuable than trainers. The gesture felt important somehow, another small kindness she wasn't quite sure how to carry yet. She drew in a steadying breath before reaching toward one of the athletic piles, lifting a folded set between her hands and examining it thoughtfully. [color=bdddff]"Let's start with the workout clothes, since they seem to be your preference."[/color] The smile that followed was small but genuine, and as she began sorting pieces into neat stacks between them, the knot that had been lodged beneath her ribs all afternoon loosened by the smallest degree.

Myla laughed softly, tucking loose curls back behind her ears. [color=962929]"Guilty,"[/color] she confessed as she did her best to help sort what she could using the texture of the fabric and its elasticity to try to match up pieces from the same sets. [color=962929]"Although,"[/color] she paused, reaching up to scratch the back of her head as an awkward smile curled lopsided across her lips. [color=962929]"I guess I also need something for a [i]beach date?[/i]"[/color] A subtle warmth dusted the tops of her cheeks as she tried to busy her hands with folding what she could. [color=962929]"Theo has been planning it for a couple days and… It didn’t really cross my mind that yoga pants and sports bras probably won’t cut it."[/color] Her head slowly tilted to the side as her face scrunched. [color=962929]"Although I think black eyes, bruises, and stitches might lessen the effect,"[/color] she added with a weak laugh as she set a black sports bra trimmed in gray beside a pair of leggings from the same brand, but they were deep red trimmed in black.

Bellamy's brows lifted with immediate interest, the faintest hum escaping her as she glanced up from the growing piles of athletic clothes. [color=bdddff]"A beach date,"[/color] she repeated, and there was something almost conspiratorial in the way her smile curled afterward. For a moment she studied the scattered clothing around them with narrowed focus, fingers drifting through fabrics and hangers while she weighed options in her mind. A silky pink skirt caught her attention first, but after a second she shook her head and set it aside, already reaching deeper into the chaos of the closet.

A flash of white fabric patterned with small black polka dots emerged from the pile, and Bellamy immediately brightened. She tugged it free with a quiet sound of triumph, holding it up between them so the material could unfurl properly. The dress was simple in the sort of way that never really went out of style; white with delicate black dots scattered across it, a fitted bodice, high halter neckline, and an open back that gave it a light, summery feel. The skirt flared gently from the waist and looked like it would catch every ocean breeze that rolled in from the water. [color=bdddff]"This one,"[/color] she declared victoriously, smoothing a wrinkle from the fabric before carefully placing it into Myla's hands. [color=bdddff]"It's really cute. I bet he'd love it."[/color]

While waiting for Myla's verdict, Bellamy returned to the athletic clothes with renewed determination. She folded leggings into neat stacks, paired matching tops together, and arranged everything into tidy little groups across the floor between them. The simple rhythm of it settled comfortably into her hands, and every so often her gaze flicked toward the polka-dot dress, unable to stop the small smile that lingered at the thought of Myla showing up to her date wearing it.

Myla slowly reached out, her rough, battle beaten fingers curled around the fabric that almost felt too delicate to be in her hands. Her thumbs ran along the satin, head cocking slightly to the side as she tried to recall the garment. She could vaguely remember wearing it once, maybe twice? It was some sort of event, but she could hardly remember what anymore as more forgettable days got lost beneath the tidal wave of her life over the past year. Hell, she didn’t even know how it ended up in her bag in the first place, but she wasn’t going to scoff at the fortunate turn of events either. Her head lifted slowly, facing Bellamy with a faint, warm smile. [color=962929]"Thank you… I, uh… I really appreciate it."[/color] 

While Theo had already let the cat out of the bag, she knew how much this date meant to him and how much he was looking forward to it. There wasn’t much she could do for her part, aside from being ready when she needed to be. But there was still a part of her that wanted to do something in return for him, even if that was something as simple as wearing a pretty dress for their first date… Because technically it was. 

She slowly pushed off the ground with one hand, while the other held the garment carefully like any sudden movements could wrinkle or destroy it entirely. Myla snagged a hanger from one of the nearby racks, and stepped out of the closet. She took a second to slip the dress onto it properly, before hooking it on the back of the bathroom door so that there was absolutely no way she could misplace it. Her hand ran along the skirt once more before making her way back into the closet and sitting down on the carpet opposite Bellamy. 

They sat in silence for a while, each of them folding and sorting to the best of their ability. Whenever Myla noticed that Bellamy’s pile was small—or non-existant—she occasionally added some pieces before she could argue: a pair of jeans, a couple pairs of socks, two shirts, a hoodie, and a set of athletic wear. The basics mostly. While the quiet was comfortable, she also felt a bit guilty like she had brought that poor girl up to her penthouse with the ulterior motive of chores. [color=962929]"So,"[/color] she mused, filling the silence as she slowly grabbed the next shirt and started folding the sleeves. [color=962929]"[i]Tobias?[/i]"[/color] she asked with a knowing lilt and a slight lift to one brow. 

Bellamy's hands stilled in the middle of folding a shirt. Her head lifted so quickly that a loose strand of hair slipped across her cheek, and for a second she simply stared at Myla as though the question had arrived in a language she didn't speak. Heat flooded her face instantly, creeping all the way to the tips of her ears, and she lifted a hand to press over one of her cheeks, despite the fact that the other woman couldn't see it. [color=bdddff]"Tobias?"[/color] she echoed, blinking several times while her brain scrambled to catch up with the conversation. Her fingers twisted nervously around the fabric in her lap, and she became acutely aware of how many times she'd apparently thought about him over the past twenty-four hours.

Her gaze dropped back to the shirt she was folding, though she wasn't really looking at it anymore. [color=bdddff]"He's—I mean, he's amazing."[/color] The words came out in a rush, followed by a nervous little laugh. [color=bdddff]"He's done so much for me and we barely know each other… I mean, he… saved me. He didn’t even hesitate, he didn’t know me, and yet he just…"[/color] Her thumb rubbed along the seam of the fabric while she searched for a way to explain something she barely understood herself. Tobias had appeared in the middle of the worst night of her life, carried her through blood and rain and panic, sat with her while she fell apart, and somehow never once made her feel like she was too much to handle. [color=bdddff]"How do you repay someone for that? Especially when they don’t expect anything in return?"[/color]

She chewed lightly on her bottom lip, shoulders hunching a fraction as embarrassment settled deeper beneath her skin. There were too many feelings tangled together to pull apart cleanly; gratitude and trust and comfort and something warmer she wasn't quite ready to examine too closely. The silence stretched for a beat before she finally surrendered with a small groan and buried her face briefly behind the shirt she was holding. [color=bdddff]"...He's really, um... good looking, too."[/color] Her voice came out muffled through the fabric. [color=bdddff]"Of course."[/color] The last two words were accompanied by a helpless little smile as she lowered the shirt again, thoroughly betrayed by her own honesty.

Myla couldn’t help the quiet laugh that bloomed in her chest. She didn’t interrupt, letting Bellamy work her way through the wave of emotions and embarrassment. It was only when she finished that she let her laugh grow to something brighter and less guarded. [color=962929]"Well, I can’t speak to how he [i]looks,[/i]"[/color] she mused as she reached for another piece of clothing, finding the mess that was her closet nearly contained and organized. [color=962929]"But he has a nice voice… deep, but gentle. You know, unless you’re Luke."[/color] She snorted while trying to muffle a laugh, because Luke getting his ass kicked was funny. [color=962929]"He also seems quite [i]muscular[/i]. I can understand the appeal."[/color]

She set the last article of clothing aside in the appropriate pile… [i]she thinks,[/i] before turning more directly toward Bellamy. [color=962929]"As for repaying him?"[/color] Myla clicked her tongue and tilted her head to the side in thought. [color=962929]"I might not be the best frame of reference for that. After Theo rescued me… I uh… [i]well.[/i]"[/color] Her hand lifted to scratch at the back of her head with a guilty grimace pulling at her lips. [color=962929]"I was really hot for him,"[/color] she admitted rather than beat around the bush, punctuating it with a pop of her lips.

A second or two passed before Myla held up her hands, waving them to try and stop any conclusions before they formed. [color=962929]"I didn’t—[i]he[/i] didn’t,"[/color] Myla clarified with a nervous laugh. [color=962929]"I was bleeding out and, you know, like half dead or whatever. And we had [i]just[/i] shared our identities… and feelings… and oh my god that makes it sound so much worse."[/color] She gave up trying to explain, letting her head fall into her hands in defeat with a soft laugh. [color=962929]"In my defense,"[/color] she muttered into her palms. [color=962929]"We had been pining after each other for months."[/color]

Bellamy nearly fumbled the shirt she was folding. Heat rushed straight back into her face, and she ducked her head so quickly that a curtain of hair slipped forward to hide part of her expression, but then she remembered that she didn’t need to do that with Myla. [color=bdddff]"I-I don't think he'd... want that,"[/color] she managed, voice betraying her with a faint squeak that only made her more embarrassed. Her hands became suddenly fascinating as she focused on smoothing invisible wrinkles from the fabric in her lap, desperately trying to keep her thoughts from wandering somewhere dangerous. Unfortunately, her imagination was proving wildly uncooperative.

The image of Tobias kept intruding anyway. The deep rumble of his voice, the broad line of his shoulders, the way he'd stepped between her and Luke without hesitation, the way he'd held her together when she'd fallen apart in that frozen bathroom. Bellamy squeezed her eyes shut for half a second and immediately regretted it. The warmth in her cheeks only deepened, and she let out a quiet groan beneath her breath before shaking her head firmly as if that might physically dislodge the thoughts.

[color=962929]"No, I—"[/color] Myla couldn’t stop herself from laughing at Bellamy’s struggle, hearing the racing of her heart, the brush of her hands along fabric, and the pained groan. [color=962929]"I’m sorry,"[/color] she lamented with an apologetic smile. [color=962929]"I wasn’t saying you should try sleeping with him. I just… Well, I don’t know what I was saying."[/color] She wheezed out a strained laugh, followed by a soft sigh. 

[color=962929]"Most heroes… The right kinds anyway, don’t want repayment,"[/color] she offered with a small shrug. [color=962929]"The reward is knowing we helped someone and did the right thing. It is for me anyway."[/color]

Bellamy smiled at that, small and genuine. The tension she'd been carrying since the meeting eased by another degree, shoulders settling as she glanced down at the neatly folded pile between them. [color=bdddff]"Yeah,"[/color] she said softly. The word lingered for a moment while she thought about Tobias sprinting through the rain to find her, sitting beside her hospital bed, throwing himself between her and danger over and over again without ever asking for anything in return. A warmth stirred quietly in her chest. [color=bdddff]"I think it's... I think he's the same."[/color]

Myla nodded her head slowly. [color=962929]"I think so too,"[/color] she agreed. Of course, she didn’t know Tobias very well. She couldn’t recall if they had ever even said anything to one another. But there was a certain air about him. He carried himself with a heavy sort of stoicism like he shouldered every mistake, loss, and misstep on his own. It was something she could relate to. People like that don’t save others for repayment, it’s just to lighten the load.

[color=bdddff]"I want to get to know him,"[/color] she admitted after a moment, the words slipping out before she could reconsider them. Her fingers found the bracelet around her wrist and spun it slowly, grounding herself in the familiar motion. [color=bdddff]"I'm just not sure how to..."[/color] She trailed off, searching for the right words while her gaze settled on one of the neatly folded piles between them. [color=bdddff]"Sometimes he's like a wall."[/color]

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth despite herself. She thought of the way he'd slept fully clothed on top of the blankets because he'd been too anxious to climb into the bed properly, the way he'd gone gently red anytime she accidentally flustered him, the way he'd carried an entire meeting on his shoulders despite clearly wanting to be anywhere else. [color=bdddff]"A really nice wall,"[/color] she added softly, almost to herself, before immediately pressing her lips together.

Myla’s smile softened while her fingers idly ran along the carpet beside her. [color=962929]"I was a wall with Theo,"[/color] she admitted quietly as her head fell. [color=962929]"You know… guarded, distant, all about the job, and never let anything get personal."[/color] She shrugged her shoulders with a soft sigh. [color=962929]"I don’t know how he did it. He just kinda chipped away at it. Talked about himself, asked questions, but didn’t pressure me to talk if I didn’t want to. He could talk enough for the both of us,"[/color] she added with a fond smile, finding herself missing him already in the small amount of time they had been apart. 

[color=962929]"If you want to get to know Tobias… I think it just starts with talking. Ask about his interests. Learning about his family and past might take time, but if you offer up information about yourself, he might open up willingly."[/color] Myla shrugged again, thinking back on the fight and all the bones she heard snapping beneath Luke’s relentless assault. [color=962929]"He’s pretty beat up,"[/color] she continued, the words offered more gently knowing that Bellamy would likely find some way to feel guilty about it, even though it was his own choice to act the way he did. [color=962929]"He’ll likely be bedridden for sometime. I’m sure he could use the company… What better time to get to know someone?"[/color]

Bellamy listened quietly, her smile softening as Myla spoke about Theo. There was something warm in the way she talked about him, woven through the words without needing to be announced, and Bellamy found herself smiling at the shirt in her hands as she folded it. She could almost picture it; Theo patiently talking enough for two people while Myla slowly lowered her guard piece by piece. It sounded comfortable. Safe. The sort of thing that happened gradually enough that one day you woke up and realized someone had become important without asking permission.

Her fingers smoothed along a sleeve before setting the shirt onto a growing stack beside her knee. The mention of Tobias being stuck in bed pulled her thoughts back toward him immediately. She pictured him limping down the hallway, blood trailing behind him, refusing to let anyone fuss over him despite looking half-dead. Guilt settled heavily in her stomach again, dull and familiar now.

[color=bdddff]"Yeah,"[/color] she murmured, frowning down at the next shirt she picked up. The fabric bunched slightly between her fingers as she folded it. [color=bdddff]"Yeah, I should check on him later. I still feel guilty."[/color] The confession came quietly, followed by a small sigh as she shook her head. [color=bdddff]"And... I do want to get to know him."[/color] A faint flush touched her cheeks again, though this time it was accompanied by the smallest smile as she added the folded shirt to the pile and reached for another.

Myla pushed off the ground, standing back up with a soft groan as the quiet aches still clung to her muscles and bones when the world slowed down enough to let her notice. [color=962929]"I know what it’s like to get beat to shit like that,"[/color] Myla commented as she started taking the organized piles, setting them on shelves or hanging them on the clothing racks, trying her best to imitate her old closet. Jeans folded with t-shirts and sweaters hanging above them, business attire on hangers separated by predetermined outfits, athletic wear stacked according to sets, shoes lined beneath, and undergarments tossed into drawers. [color=962929]"My uncle would keep me company: read me the newspaper, bring me food, and sit in bed beside me while listening to old shitty TV reruns."[/color] She shrugged her shoulders with a sad smile… She missed Foggy. Even when she was living with him, Myla hardly saw him and now there was even more space between them. [color=962929]"It’s the people who help you when you’re down that make all the difference."[/color]

Bellamy rose a moment later, carrying a stack of folded shirts against her chest as she followed Myla's lead. She moved slowly through the closet, placing piles where directed and pausing every so often to straighten a sleeve or refold something that wasn't quite neat enough for her liking. There was something comforting about the task. It gave her hands something to do while her thoughts chased themselves in circles around Tobias, around her parents, around everything that had happened so quickly that she still felt as though she were trying to catch up with her own life.

Myla's words lingered with her as she worked. The people who stayed when you were hurt. The people who sat beside hospital beds and brought food and filled the silence so you didn't have to be alone with your thoughts. Bellamy carefully stacked a pile of athletic clothes onto a shelf before leaning back on her heels, staring at them without really seeing them. She thought about Tobias stepping on broken glass for her. About the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear while she cried herself empty. About the way he'd looked after the fight, almost like he was ashamed.

[color=bdddff]"Your uncle sounds nice,"[/color] she said softly, breaking the comfortable quiet that had settled between them. Her gaze drifted toward Myla as she moved around the room, organizing pieces of a life that had been hastily stuffed into bags. [color=bdddff]"I think..."[/color] She hesitated, smoothing her palm over the edge of a shelf. [color=bdddff]"I think I'd like to be that for someone someday."[/color] The admission surprised her a little once it was spoken aloud, but it felt true. Not rescuing people. Not being the strongest person in the room. Just being someone others could lean on when everything hurt.

[color=962929]"He is,"[/color] Myla responded quietly with a sad sort of smile that slowly fell beneath something pensive and forlorn. [color=962929]"He’s my dad’s best friend,"[/color] she added as she slipped a piece of clothing onto a hanger, then hung it in its designated area. [color=962929]"Pretty much the only family I have left."[/color] She paused, then sighed. [color=962929]"Well… There’s my mom, but that’s… [i]complicated.[/i] My uncle basically raised me whenever my dad was running around Hell’s Kitchen."[/color] Her smile returned faintly. Her childhood might have been unorthodox by most people’s standards, but she wouldn’t change it… not for anything. 

Then she slowly turned to face Bellamy, offering her a gentle, lopsided smile. [color=962929]"Not all heroes fight crime,"[/color] Myla offered with a small shrug. [color=962929]"Some are doctors, or lawyers, or cops, or strong support systems for those who need it."[/color] She tucked loose hair behind her ears before leaning over and grabbing another sweater. [color=962929]"They come in all shapes and sizes."[/color]

Bellamy fell quiet after that, her fingers worrying at the bracelet around her wrist as it turned once, then twice, then a third time beneath her thumb. The closet felt smaller than it had a few moments ago, filled with neatly folded clothes and the faint scent of fabric softener, yet her thoughts kept drifting somewhere far beyond the tower. She watched Myla hang another sweater, watched the easy familiarity with which she moved through her own space, and for a moment envied how grounded she seemed. The feeling passed quickly, leaving only a dull ache behind.

[color=bdddff]"I didn't want to be a hero,"[/color] she said at last, the words coming quietly enough that they almost disappeared into the room. Admitting it felt strangely difficult, as though she were confessing something shameful instead of something she'd spent years insisting upon. [color=bdddff]"I was adamant. I never wanted this life."[/color] Her gaze drifted downward, settling on her hands folded loosely. [color=bdddff]"And my dad... he was okay with it. He argued some, wanted me to at least be able to defend myself."[/color]

A faint smile touched her lips before fading just as quickly. [color=bdddff]"But I was young, and stubborn, and so I never did."[/color] The words settled heavily between them. Bellamy drew in a slow breath that caught halfway through her chest, forcing herself to keep her eyes fixed on the bracelet rather than the memories waiting just beyond the edge of her thoughts. Her father's voice lingered there, patient and persistent, alongside a hundred conversations she'd brushed aside because there would always be more time tomorrow.

The breath left her in a quiet shudder. She swallowed hard and looked toward the floor of the closet, following the pattern in the carpet rather than allowing herself to look backward. There were too many what-ifs waiting there, too many alternate versions of that day where she had listened, trained harder, been stronger, been something other than who she was. They crowded at the back of her throat like poison. Bellamy pressed her lips together and gently spun the bracelet once more, forcing her attention back to the present, because if she let herself step into those memories now, she wasn't entirely sure she'd find her way back out.

Myla listened, nodding her head in quiet acknowledgement as she hung up the sweater along the clothes rack, then grabbed the next garment. She let the silence sit and breathe for a moment or two before speaking again. [color=962929]"My dad never wanted this life for me."[/color] Her hands slowly slipped a hanger through the collar of a shirt. [color=962929]"[i]He[/i] was adamant about keeping me as far from the life of a vigilante as possible… Convinced I’d get myself killed."[/color] A weak laugh slipped out at the irony of how close to right he had been, countless times. [color=962929]"But I was also young and stubborn and I didn’t listen."[/color] She shrugged her shoulders as the soft clink of the hanger slipping onto the rack filled the closet. [color=962929]"Eventually he figured if I wasn’t going to listen, then he should at least train me, for his peace of mind."[/color]

Rather than picking up another piece of clothing, Myla slowly turned around to face Bellamy. Her face had a heaviness that didn’t live there before, creasing her brows, and tugging the corners of her mouth downwards. [color=962929]"I had over a decade of training… And I wasn’t able to save my dad."[/color] The confession cut through the tension of the closet like a blade, sharp and exact, but no less true. [color=962929]"Same with Theo… and Tobias,"[/color] she added, giving more credence to her argument. There was a moment she contemplated listing off every single person in the tower who stood exactly where they did, instead letting her point stand solid on its own feet. Bellamy got her meaning. She didn’t need to beat it to death. 

[color=962929]"This all fucking sucks,"[/color] Myla lamented loudly, bordering on a shout while throwing up her hands in exhaustion. [color=962929]"But the only people we should be blaming is [i]them[/i]—"[/color] She waved her hands vaguely somewhere behind her, motioning at the ominous [i]‘they.’[/i] [color=962929]"—But not each other, and [i]not[/i] ourselves. Our dads wouldn’t want that."[/color]

Bellamy stood very still as Myla spoke, her fingers remained curled around the cool metal of her bracelet while the other woman's words settled slowly into the spaces grief had hollowed out inside her. She looked down at her wrist, because it was easier than looking at the pain written across Myla's face. The realization settled heavily in her chest that every person in this tower seemed to carry the same wound in a different shape, each of them haunted by someone they couldn't save no matter how hard they had tried.

Her throat tightened painfully. She wanted to argue, to insist that it was different somehow, that if she'd listened to her father, if she'd learned to fight, if she'd been stronger, if she'd just... something. But every protest withered before it reached her lips beneath the quiet certainty in Myla's voice. The woman beside her had trained for years, Theo had trained for years, Tobias had spent his entire life becoming something capable of standing against monsters, and still they carried names they wished they could have saved. Bellamy shut her eyes, twisting the bracelet around her wrist until the cool metal pressed firmly into her skin, grounding herself in its familiar weight.

A slow breath left her lungs as her shoulders eased for what felt like the first time all afternoon. The guilt was still there, dense and aching, but it no longer felt quite so absolute. [color=bdddff]"My dad would've hated hearing me blame myself,"[/color] she admitted quietly, a sad smile touching her lips as the memory of him surfaced with startling clarity. [color=bdddff]"He'd probably tell me I was being stubborn again."[/color] A soft, watery laugh escaped before she ducked her head, blinking rapidly against the sting behind her eyes. [color=bdddff]"I'm... trying,"[/color] she murmured. [color=bdddff]"I don't know how to stop yet... but I'm trying."[/color]

Myla laughed quietly at the mention of being stubborn, knowing that her dad would probably tell her something similar if he was there… and then she’d say she learned it from him. They had that conversation at least once a week, and it never changed. It always started with him mad or frustrated, and ended with laughter and him realizing once again that she was too much like him to deny. Stubborn, headstrong, and insanely independent. The memory made an ache she had repressed for months resurface, sharp and raw in the center of her chest… But it also made her smile despite it. 

[color=962929]"Trying is like 90% of the battle. You’ll get there,"[/color] she offered with a single shoulder shrug. [color=962929]"I was doing good at not blaming myself until the other night."[/color] Myla brushed it off with a dismissive wave of her hand. The last thing she needed was to reopen that can of worms when she was supposed to be in higher spirits for Theo’s date. If she did anything to ruin what he’s been planning… Well, it’d just be another thing added to the list of things she’s never been able to forgive herself for, and she wanted to be better… was trying to be, anyway.

Bellamy's smile softened until it settled into something quiet and genuine, touched by an affection that had grown far quicker than she'd expected. She looked at Myla for a long moment, taking in the warmth behind her words and the kindness that seemed to come so naturally despite everything the other woman had endured. [color=bdddff]"Thank you,"[/color] she said softly, the words carrying far more weight than their simplicity suggested. [color=bdddff]"Really... I don't think I realized how much I needed someone to tell me that."[/color] Her fingers absently turned the bracelet around her wrist once more, but this time the motion was slow and thoughtful rather than anxious, and the small smile she offered Myla reached her eyes.

Myla nodded her head with a small smile. She wasn’t used to being the person someone looked to for advice or comfort. People didn’t lean on her and it was rare that she let herself lean on others. There was always kindness in her and a compassion to help… [i]everyone[/i], but it was hidden beneath her prickly exterior that people rarely saw it. What they were doing in this tower was important, and she was trying her best to be as accommodating as possible, or at least more than Luke or Jim. But it was nice hearing that she helped at least one person, even if she didn’t run into the line of fire and save her life like Tobias did… She still helped. 

[color=962929]"It’ll get easier,"[/color] she offered with a gentle shrug. [color=962929]"The pain doesn’t go away, but you’ll learn how to live with it and use it to drive you."[/color] Her smile widened slightly as she reached for another sweater and a hanger. [color=962929]"Friends make it easier… [i]and[/i] hot guys with muscles who punch people for you,"[/color] she mused with a mischievous chuckle.

Bellamy sat with Myla's words for a while, letting them settle somewhere beneath the ache that had become so familiar it almost felt like another heartbeat. The pain wasn't going to disappear, she knew that much now, but perhaps it didn't have to remain an open wound forever. If she could learn from it, let it shape her into someone stronger instead of simply hollowing her out, then maybe everything she'd lost wouldn't exist only as tragedy.

A surprised laugh slipped free before she could stop it, warm and genuine as it chased away some of the heaviness clinging to her shoulders. Bellamy ducked her head with a lingering smile, the words refusing to come despite how badly she wanted to thank her. Instead she let the quiet settle between them, no longer strained but comfortable, hoping Myla could hear everything she couldn't quite bring herself to say in the softness of her laugh and the steadiness that had finally returned to her breathing.

It took a few more minutes for Myla to finish making the closet appear as lived in and organized as possible. She was missing some of her preferred garments, but packing in a rush didn’t give her much opportunity to be thorough. It was good enough, aside from Theo’s stuff… She contemplated unpacking for him as well, but she honestly had no clue how he organized his belongings—probably organized chaos she imagined. If nothing else, she scooped up his bag and set it beside the empty side of the closet. There was a moment where she started gathering up his clothes that were scattered about the room and as she caught the subtle scent of his sweat—[i]and hers[/i]—clinging to cotton, she recalled why it ended up there in the first place. A guilty blush rose in her cheeks as she picked up the discarded clothing like a scavenger hunt, and tossed them into the hamper. 

A small smile tugged at Bellamy’s lips as she caught the faint blush that had crept into Myla's cheeks while she gathered up Theo's discarded clothes. She politely pretended not to notice, though amusement flickered warmly behind her eyes. Instead she reached for another hanger and busied herself helping organize the remaining clothes, feeling lighter than she had in days. For the first time since arriving at the tower, the future didn't feel like an endless drop beneath her feet. It felt uncertain and frightening and painful, but maybe not something she had to face entirely alone.

When she returned to the closet, Myla pointed down at the single remaining stack of clothing that she had put together herself once she noticed Bellamy was making no attempts to pick anything out herself. [color=962929]"Those are for you,"[/color] she offered with a warm smile as she leaned against the door frame. [color=962929]"Alfred’s tablet is on the coffee table. Me and touch screens aren’t really compatible—"[/color] she chuckled under her breath, [color=962929]"—but he explained some of it to me. Said it’s connected to paypal or google pay or something like that. You just shop on whatever sites you want, charge it to whichever Stark-Wayne-Frost account is connected. He said you can expedite it and that the address should be in there somewhere."[/color] Myla shrugged her shoulders slightly. [color=962929]"I hope some of that means more to you than it does to me."[/color]

There was a pause, just for a second or two, before she snapped remembering one last thing. [color=962929]"[i]Oh.[/i] Alfred also mentioned that the stuff he ordered for your cat arrived during the meeting. It should be in your room by… Well now."[/color] Myla’s brows furrowed as if she just connected the dots and realized that meant Bellamy had a pet in the tower. [color=962929]"I might have to bug you sometime and meet your cat. Or, you know, if you ever need a catsitter. Theo and I can always keep it company,"[/color] she added with a small smile that said any opportunity to spend some time gushing over a fluffy little animal was the best time.

Bellamy's attention dropped to the neatly assembled stack Myla had put together for her, surprise flickering plainly across her face. For a moment she simply stared at it, taking in the jeans and shirts and hoodie and athletic clothes that had somehow appeared while she'd been distracted. The gesture settled warmly in her chest, another small kindness added to a growing pile she wasn't entirely sure how to carry. Her fingers brushed lightly across the folded hoodie before her gaze lifted back toward Myla.

The mention of Alfred's tablet drew a faint crease between her brows. She could picture it sitting untouched on the coffee table, loaded with possibilities she hadn't even considered yet. New clothes. Shoes. Toiletries. Things she'd left behind in a house she would maybe never return to. The thought made her stomach tighten, but not as sharply as it had before.

Then Myla mentioned her cat, and Bellamy visibly brightened. The heaviness lingering around her eyes eased almost instantly, replaced by something softer and more familiar. [color=bdddff]"He's probably already claimed the entire penthouse as his kingdom,"[/color] she said with a small laugh, imagining the kitten sprawled dramatically across furniture he'd owned for all of ten hours. The idea of Myla and Theo volunteering to watch him tugged another smile from her before uncertainty crept back in.

[color=bdddff]"Is that really okay?"[/color] she asked quietly, glancing between the stack of clothes and the direction of the living room where the tablet waited. One hand drifted to her bracelet, turning it around her wrist in a nervous habit she'd fallen into. [color=bdddff]"I feel bad spending their money."[/color] Her voice softened around the admission. [color=bdddff]"Everyone's already done so much for me."[/color] She looked down at the clothes Myla had picked out, then back up again with an embarrassed little smile. [color=bdddff]"I'm not used to people being this generous, or needing to accept help."[/color]

[color=962929]"Yeah,"[/color] Myla replied with a soft laugh. [color=962929]"All three of them are millionaires. I highly doubt whatever you need would put a dent in their checking accounts."[/color] After a moment her brows furrowed while her head tilted to the side slightly. [color=962929]"I mean… Jim hates me, and he gave me a job with Stark Enterprises, and likely a salary that’ll put me into cardiac arrest… [i]Soooo…[/i]"[/color] She held out her hands and shrugged her shoulders, accenting it with a small pop of her lips. [color=962929]"If you’re that worried, you can keep track of how much you spend and pay them back. Although I imagine Imogen and June would refuse your money."[/color]

Bellamy let out a small laugh and nodded, some of the tension easing from her shoulders at the thought. [color=bdddff]"Yeah, I suppose that's a good idea."[/color] The idea of keeping track of everything felt manageable, something she could hold onto instead of feeling like she was drowning in generosity she hadn't earned. Bellamy pushed herself up from the carpet, carefully stepping around Myla where she stood in the doorway before slipping out of the bedroom. The living room was quiet, and she quickly crossed the space, reaching for the tablet Alfred had lended them resting on the coffee table. She tucked it against her side and retraced her steps, easing back into the bedroom with a small, absent smile before lowering herself onto the floor once more. This time she settled with her back resting against the side of the bed, legs folded comfortably beneath her, the tablet balanced across her lap as she looked back toward Myla, ready to continue where they'd left off.

The screen flickered to life beneath her fingertips. Amazon opened, filling the display with an endless sea of possibilities that immediately made her feel out of her depth. Bellamy stared at it for several long seconds, chewing on the inside of her cheek before glancing back toward Myla. [color=bdddff]"I don't even know where to start, I feel like I'm missing so much."[/color] She sighed softly and scrolled through a few categories without really seeing them. [color=bdddff]"I need clothes, I guess. Shoes. Shampoo. Conditioner. A hairbrush."[/color] Her brows knit together as she thought harder. [color=bdddff]"Toothbrush, bra… Jesus.[/color] Her thumb hovered over the screen before she looked back toward Myla with quiet uncertainty. [color=bdddff]"What would you buy if you had to start over from scratch?"[/color]

Myla let out a sigh, the air puffing up her cheeks as she thought. [color=962929]"[i]Umm…[/i]"[/color] She scratched her head and chewed on the inside of her cheek as she tried to imagine what she would consider necessities if she one day found herself in a new place with nothing to her name. [color=962929]"All the essential toiletries. Two good pairs of shoes, like a pair of sneakers for daily wear so you are comfortable, but also can run or whatever at a moment’s notice, and solid boots for shitty weather or… who knows what."[/color] She rocked her head back and forth, mentally shifting various items into two columns of needs or wants. [color=962929]"A capsule wardrobe, which is like essential pieces of clothing, usually neutrals I believe?"[/color] Her brows rose as she tried to remember all the details Marci had told her on one of their [i]many[/i] shopping trips. [color=962929]"It’s supposed to be really easy to mix and match, and make like a bunch of outfits out of like a dozen or so pieces."[/color]

She lightly rapped her fingertips along her thighs, trying to recall what she usually tossed into bags whenever she had to dash on short notice. [color=962929]"A phone, if you don’t have one. And given our current circumstances…"[/color] Myla’s voice trailed off as the pragmatist in her reared its ugly head as it often did in moments where reality was more important than wishful thinking. [color=962929]"A duffel of [i]absolute[/i] essentials ready if we ever need to run and one of those cat backpacks, because the last thing you need in a panic is to try and juggle a pissy cat."[/color]

Bellamy immediately swiped over to a notes app, her thumb moving quickly across the screen as she built a checklist before she forgot half of what Myla suggested. The list grew steadily beneath her fingertips: toiletries, trainers, boots, a proper coat, everyday clothes, phone charger, spare backpack. Her lips twitched upward as she added another item. [color=bdddff]"Cat bag, that's genius."[/color] The thought of trying to carry Loki through an emergency while he protested loudly enough to wake the dead felt absurd enough that she couldn't help smiling.

The next half hour slipped by in a comfortable rhythm. The tablet rested against her knees while she bounced between search results and recommendations, adding things to her cart whenever she found something practical. Every so often she'd call something out for Myla's opinion, or abandon a page entirely after deciding she didn't need two types of sneakers. By the time she finished, the cart held far more than she'd originally intended; clothes, shoes, toiletries, a new phone, a few basic household items, a duffle bag with emergency supplies to go in it, and even a small photo printer after the realization struck that nearly every picture she still owned lived in cloud storage. The thought of having family photos sitting on shelves again eased something deep inside her chest.

When she finally reached checkout, Bellamy stared at the total for several long seconds. The number sat there in bold text, large enough to make her stomach tighten despite everything Myla had said. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, then glanced toward the other woman before lowering her eyes back to the screen.

[color=bdddff]"I'm ordering it under Imogen's account,"[/color] she mumbled, finger hovering uncertainly over the button. [color=bdddff]"She might let me pay her back."[/color] The statement sounded more hopeful than confident. After a moment she exhaled softly and pressed purchase before she could talk herself out of it. The confirmation screen appeared almost instantly. Bellamy stared at it for a second, then let out a small breath, feeling strangely lighter. It wasn't much, just a collection of things and a shipping confirmation, but for the first time since arriving at the tower, it felt like she was building something instead of only surviving what had already been lost.

Myla sat in the doorway of the closet, tucking her legs beneath her as Bellamy set to the arduous task of trying to rebuild her life with an Amazon shopping cart. She offered suggestions and feedback where she could, but otherwise, when the silence lingered, her attention slipped through the tower until it snagged on Theo’s voice. She never really understood what they were talking about, but there was a comfort that came from just listening, and observing how he worked with others. Unlike Jim, he wanted to help. He settled naturally into the team environment like he was made for it, and something about the way he just [i]fit[/i] everywhere he went made her feel slightly guilty at how much that contrasted herself, yet it also made her heart swell because he truly was one of the kindest and most selfless people she knew. Why he wanted her, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever understand that one. But she was thankful he did.

When Bellamy finished, her words drew back Myla’s attention with a soft, [color=962929]"[i]Huh?[/i]"[/color] It took a second for her brain to catch up before her brows rose slightly. She wasn’t entirely convinced that it would play out the way Bellamy hoped, but she wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that either… At least, not until her stuff arrived and there was no going back. Whether or not it was easy accepting handouts, there were basic necessities the girl needed. [color=962929]"Maybe,"[/color] she mused with a small shrug of her shoulders.

Bellamy smiled to herself at Myla's uncertain answer, the shopping was finished now, the list of things she needed no longer lived only in her head, and that alone made the world feel a little less overwhelming. She lingered where she was for another quiet moment, letting the comfortable silence settle between them before pushing herself upright with a hand against the edge of the bed. Her muscles protested after sitting on the floor so long, and she stretched absentmindedly, smoothing the front of Tobias's borrowed hoodie as she did.

[color=bdddff]"I should probably go check on Tobias,"[/color] she said softly, though the admission carried a hint of nervousness beneath it. The thought had been tugging at her ever since Myla suggested it, growing harder to ignore the longer she sat there. She glanced toward the bedroom door before looking back at the other woman, a small smile finding its way onto her face again. [color=bdddff]"But... do you need any more help getting ready for your date before I disappear?"[/color] she asked earnestly. [color=bdddff]"I'd be happy to stay a little longer if you do."[/color]

Her gaze drifted briefly toward the neatly organized closet, then back to Myla, warmth settling comfortably in her chest. It struck Bellamy then that she'd arrived at the tower with nothing but grief, a frightened kitten, and borrowed clothes, yet somewhere between sorting wardrobes, sharing bourbon, and talking about fathers they both missed, she'd made her first real friend. The realization softened her expression into something quieter than happiness, but no less genuine, and she found herself hoping this wouldn't be the last afternoon they spent sitting on a bedroom floor, putting broken pieces back together one small conversation at a time.

[color=962929]"I think Tobias is a bit more important,"[/color] Myla mused with a warm smile. He had gotten his ass beaten to hell and back by a super soldier, that seemed to take a significantly higher priority than her own date related quandaries. [color=962929]"You already helped with the hardest part, the outfit. The rest is just me having to remind myself that I used to work a corporate job, and that I do in fact know how to do my hair and makeup… I just need to remember."[/color] She laughed softly, shrugging her shoulders with the unbothered conviction that she’d either figure it out or look like a clown, and somehow she imagined Theo would still like it. [i]Little weirdo.[/i] [color=962929]"Muscle memory,"[/color] she added, lightly tapping two fingers against her temple.

Bellamy's smile brightened until it reached her eyes, easy now in a way it hadn't been since she'd arrived at the tower. The knot of worry that had lived beneath her ribs all afternoon loosened another fraction as she looked at Myla, unable to imagine anyone more deserving of a peaceful evening than the woman sitting across from her. [color=bdddff]"Thank you... and good luck,"[/color] she said warmly, the sincerity in her voice impossible to miss. [color=bdddff]"I hope it's everything you've both been looking forward to."[/color]

She lingered for a moment before stepping closer. [color=bdddff]"And..."[/color] she began, a little shy again despite herself, [color=bdddff]"Would it be alright if we did this again sometime?"[/color] A hopeful smile tugged gently at her lips as she tilted her head. [color=bdddff]"I want to hear all about your date afterwards."[/color]

Myla’s smile turned slightly bashful as a faint blush dusted the tops of her cheeks. [color=962929]"Thanks. He kind of ruined his original plan, so I genuinely have no idea what he has planned."[/color] She shrugged her shoulders with a soft laugh. Originally Theo had planned to save his declaration of love for the beach. He had all but let the cat out of the bag already, but then last night after training… Well, the rest of the plan quickly went to shit, in the best possible way. So while his original intentions might be out the window, she wouldn’t put it past him to have something else up his sleeve. It was hard not being anxious and nervous and a million other emotions. 

At Bellamy’s question, her head tilted toward her with a warmth that tugged at the corners of her smile. [color=962929]"Of course. I can help you organize [i]your[/i] closet once everything arrives… Which mostly means I’ll keep you company and smother your cat with love,"[/color] she mused with a guilty laugh. 

Bellamy grinned at Myla, nodding automatically before remembering, a heartbeat too late, that the other woman would never see it. [color=bdddff]"That sounds great, I can't wait. Thanks, Myla. Really. I'll see you later!"[/color] she said warmly, the gratitude in her voice coming easily where words had failed her before.

She slipped out of the penthouse and into the hall, letting the quiet settle around her as she crossed to the elevator. Every instinct urged her to hurry, to rush upstairs and make sure Tobias was alright, but she kept herself to an even, measured pace. She didn’t want to seem too eager to see him, but there was a small part of Bellamy that was certain she hadn’t fooled Myla.[/color][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]

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