Her mind was both too active and not active enough. Like a gerbil in a wheel, it was turning, but it didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Everything that had been talked about before had more or less fled her mind at the news he had given her. While Emily knew that their job had risks on a daily basis, to actually be confronted with the news that it had happened... All of this was hard to wrap her head around to begin with, and that had only added icing to the cake. It wasn't every day that someone told you that you were dead without actually being dead. Not unless it was like those pictures that Emily had staged.
He had said that, hadn't he? She tried to focus, to keep her thoughts centralized, but she was finding it harder to do so. There might have been a sheepish hint to her expression, as if she had been caught, but it lasted for only a minute. In a way, she was both good and bad at fitting in to new places. Traveling around a lot as a child had forced her to try to fit in, although every time that she seemed to actually start to do so, her mother would move them again. She was also good at compacting information, of not letting it show. At least most of the time. It had been just recently when she had ended up throwing up a little on her shoes.
Her eyes sought his out at that answer, wondering what it would feel like... She wasn't a zombie, at least she didn't want to eat brains and didn't feel like one- although scratch that. Emily couldn't say that she was at the top of her game, but it would pass. She kept telling herself that anyway. Yet there was no questioning his actions, assuming that with everything he had gone through, there was that part that wanted to guarantee that she was alive and real and not some figment of his imagination.
"Not that long. It is my fourth day." She hadn't been up to too much those first three days, still reeling from everything that had transpired before coming here. A part of her still expecting Doyle to walk through the door at any minute. She had slept only when her body had called for it, and not in the bed, but in the strategically placed chair. But she had needed to do something, to get some sense of normality back to her life.
i would never have known!
He had said that, hadn't he? She tried to focus, to keep her thoughts centralized, but she was finding it harder to do so. There might have been a sheepish hint to her expression, as if she had been caught, but it lasted for only a minute. In a way, she was both good and bad at fitting in to new places. Traveling around a lot as a child had forced her to try to fit in, although every time that she seemed to actually start to do so, her mother would move them again. She was also good at compacting information, of not letting it show. At least most of the time. It had been just recently when she had ended up throwing up a little on her shoes.
Her eyes sought his out at that answer, wondering what it would feel like... She wasn't a zombie, at least she didn't want to eat brains and didn't feel like one- although scratch that. Emily couldn't say that she was at the top of her game, but it would pass. She kept telling herself that anyway. Yet there was no questioning his actions, assuming that with everything he had gone through, there was that part that wanted to guarantee that she was alive and real and not some figment of his imagination.
"Not that long. It is my fourth day." She hadn't been up to too much those first three days, still reeling from everything that had transpired before coming here. A part of her still expecting Doyle to walk through the door at any minute. She had slept only when her body had called for it, and not in the bed, but in the strategically placed chair. But she had needed to do something, to get some sense of normality back to her life.