Bailey had been in and out of it for the past day and a half, partly due to the exhaustion her body was feeling, and partly from the ambrosia and nectar that was helping heal her wounds. When Bailey woke up again, this time more coherent than the last, she saw the other sitting in a chair next to her. She groaned slightly, as she shifted in the bed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked the other, rubbing her eyes to clear them more, though wincing when her hand pressed against her blackened eye. She looked away slightly from the other. She felt vulnerable, and she could barely process everything that had happened, especially with her mother. She was hurt, and she couldn’t do anything about it except feel ashamed that she let herself even open her heart to the other. “You don’t have to be here,” she insisted.