There is nothing to lose [morrison]

[Nessarose Allens]

Even in this state she could understand the revulsion in his eyes with a clear mind. It was the one emotion that she had been familiar with her entire life, no doubt it would be the one she recognised in her insanity. An exhausted smirk made its way upon her lips as she dropped her frantic eyes from his face. Her whole body was a contrast of movements, from the tired smile on her lips to the frantic fear in her eyes, from the perpetual stillness in her mood to the constant shaking of her body. There was nothing that could be done. He head was spinning, her mind was in shutdown and she felt worse than she had in ... well, since she ran away. Something funny was going on here, something that was making her this way irrationally, yet try as she might she could not think about it. Her mind would not allow her to forget the current situation, it would not all her to see past the reality of the voice's flame incarnation.

Ah yes, the thought reignited the fear and her eyes placed themselves where the voice should have been. It was gone. Her body became rigid as she searched the room, but it was not here. Nes was quickly becoming lethargic, she could feel the exhasution of a tough couple of nights beginning to set in. Those nights, coupled with this particularly exhausting day were catching up with her, draining what remained of her strength. Somehow she still felt uncomfortable here, even though he was taking care of her, there was something about this place that was not right. Not comfortable enough to sleep here, yet Nes could not prevent the oncoming tiredness. She needed sleep, if only so that she could leave when the morning came.

Try to get up. You need to lay down.

Eh? She glanced up at him, suprised as she had not noticed he was speaking. Bleakly, she nodded and looked up for something to grab onto to help pull herself up. Nes grabbed ahold of the edge of the bath before using the remained of her strength (which was very little) to push herself unsteadily onto her feet. Try and get up. Well, she had managed that part, now was for the whole laying down thing. The thought of walking made her head spin, yet she gestured to the door anyway. Wrapping her shaking arms around her stomach she waited for him to lead the way.

"D-don't worry. I'll ... i'll be gone in the morning." The statement was flat and without conviction. Nes was unsure what state she would be in when the morning came, or even if the voice would allow her to wake from the sleep that she knew would be forced upon her. Whatever happened, she knew she could not impose upon Morrison any longer. It would be embarrassing to wake in the morning; there would be no intimidation from her, for he would always know how weak she was. In other words, she could not stay near someone who could so easily exploit her, it would kill them both.

Nes trailed behind him to the guest room, her eyes frantically searched the rooms before she entered and she stumbled frequently from spinning around to assure herself the voice was not following her. This whole game was getting old, Nes had no idea what was happening to her, but she wanted it to stop.

[Morrison Whelan]

A frown curved Morrison's mouth as Nessa struggled a bit to find her footing and he reached out a hand to grab her arm to pull her up then quickly pulled it right back to his hip when she able to grab onto the bath fro support. Her legs seemed unstable with her weight back on them, they shook minutely and she held them too close together. Even so, he didn't move to help her in any way, he only lead her out to the guest bedroom. His ears stayed keen so that he wouldn't have to turn to look and make sure that was following. He also stayed prepared to twist around and catch her in case her legs gave out under her.

"D-don't worry. I'll ... i'll be gone in the morning."

She wouldn't, for sure, and he thought that she knew that. The girl needed to eat and regain her strength, but she couldn't get any nutrients in her until she stopped purging the contents of her stomach. That morning, Morrison imagined that she would feel much better, especially since she was recovering a lot faster than he had believed. He might let her leave the next evening, but not until then, just so that he could make sure that she was secure in her body and mind.

Upon entering the room, the man grabbed the empty trash can from the the far wall and dropped it next to the bed. It was better to be safe than sorry. Though, he wasn't too confident that she'd be able to find the bin if she had to throw up late at night, well early morning now. Morrison glanced at the doorway to see if sunlight had pierced the apartment yet, but he could only stare at Nessa. She spun slowly round one direction, stopped then turned the other way, checking her surroundings in an all too careful, paranoid way.

One of his thick eyebrows lifted in slight confusion. Why start to make yourself dizzy when your equilibrium was already whacked out by illness? Perhaps she was getting a bit delirious. It was definitely time for her to sleep, rest her brain and recharge it. She might even get in a decent amount of sleep, since she no longer seemed to be speaking to anyone that didn't exist. Visions of her demon might still plague her, but once she shut her eyes, she'd be free.

The wolf moved over to Nessa and put a hand to her shoulder to stop her mid-twist. Without a word, he lead her to the bed then coaxed her to sit on the mattress by pushing firmly and what he thought was gently down. Sighing softly, as though her sitting had released a bit of tension in himself, he walked over to the doorway. "I guess I'll leave you for the night." He stood there for a moment, feeling a bit awkward and glancing at the ground between his feet. "Try to get some sleep," he forced a small smile at her, "at least relax a little, close your eyes..."

After a soft nod, he left her, closing the bedroom door softly and leaving the light on for her. Unable to pull himself away from his need to protect and hover over Nessa, he stood by the door for at least a minute, just listening. What are you doing? He finally asked himself. It forced him to yank his mind away from the girl and force him to figure out to stay awake for the next 20 hours.

He checked the bathroom, to make sure it was clean, and was pleased to find that Nessa hadn't gotten anything on the floor, he merely had to flush the toilet. Next, Morrison went to the front door to lock it again. No one got in, no one got out. He then traipsed to the kitchen and grabbed a short beer from the fridge and got the bowl of biscuits from the living room before dropping down on the couch. The comfortable cushions of the sofa and the alcohol would probably lull him into slumber, but he was far too tired to move around to stay awake. He just had to keep thinking... Meadhbh, Iivan, his mother... That could work, such thoughts would keep him awake for days.

[Nessarose Allens]

Nes was only vaguely aware of where she was or even what she was doing. Black flew on the edges of her vision, teasing her with shapes and forms that startled and made her fear. She stood in the doorway of the bedroom, staring behind and around her to make sure that nothing was going to sneak up on her. It was all that she could do not to check under the bed and in the cupboards for 'monsters' and voices. Paranoia was something that always got the better of her, no matter where she was or what state she was in. At the moment it seemed to be worse, it seemed to be imprinted in every part of her body, paying no mind to the fact that she did need some sanity to function daily.

When Morrison walked over to her and stopped her from looking around she merely glanced at him in a tired and confused manner. Her mood was varying greatly, at one moment she had a clear mind, at the next it was plauged by unseen horrors and now it was simply confused and tired. Nes had no idea where she was, yet she followed Morrison as he pushed her toward the mattress and then sat her down. Slowly, she blinked twice and stared up at him in a delirium. Her head was spinning, she couldn't think. Could she ever think? What the hell was going on?

After he left the room, she sat where he'd left her for about five minutes, her eyes never left the wall she was staring at. Slowly, then in a more rapid motion she shook her head, attempting to clear her mind, or at least shake some of the exhaustion. When she stood up, her pace was unsteady and she stumbled as she made her way to the light switch. When everything went dark she stopped suddenly, looking around in sudden disorientation. "Ah, stupid." She muttered slowly before stretching her hands out in front of her, the darkness made her afraid and she could feel her heartbeat accelerating. Strangely, she made her way to the bed without falling or hitting everything and she crawled into it, curling up similar to something a child would do. She wasn't sure how long it took her to fall asleep, only that eventually she did.

- - - - -

When she woke her head hurt. Nes wasn't sure why, she still had no idea why she didn't remember anything, she wasn't sure why or even where she was. Steadily, she sat up and put her head in her hands, if only to make it stop spinning. "Fucking hell." Her mutter was quiet, she swung herself out of the bed, glancing at herself. Was that blood on her arm? She touched it carefully and winced at the sharp pain down her arm. Her blood then. How had it gotten there? And, where the fuck was she? She remembered flashes of things, she remembered ... the wolf ... Morrison. What about him? Fuck. It took her minutes to remember, she only remembered getting in his car, she remembered having a drink. After that ... nothing. Had she been drugged then? Moreso, or different, than usual? She had no idea. Incoherent whispers were formed in her head. But no words, for now the voice was content to remain in the background.

Speaking of the voice ... a dream came to her, though she could not quite recall it. Had it been more of a nightmare then? The voice, had it taken a shape? Or was that her imagination. Fuck! Why couldn't she think?!

Nes found a mirror in the room and stared into it, wow .. she looked an utter wreck. Ah well, couldn't be helped, at least she looked ... vaguely healthy. Running her hands through her hair for the final time she glanced toward the door, sighing. She had no idea what to expect, she had no idea what had happened. Normally, that was a good thing, but normally when this happened she was not in company. "Shit, gotta happen some time." With a final shrug she walked toward the door, her pace was still a little unsteady and there was still a minor shaking in her hands and her arms. Nothing that she couldn't hide.

As she slipped through the door, she saw him on the couch. "Uh, morning. Or ..." Nes glanced toward the window, before looking back to him. "Whats the time?"

[Morrison Whelan]

...morning... What's the time?"

Morrison's eyes flew open at her words and he stumbled to his feet, hoping this would cover up the fact that he'd been sleeping. It was the beer  that had done him in. He'd thought that bad memories and guilt would be enough to keep him awake, but after half a bottle, his emotions became dull so that rest was at the forefront of his mind. At least it didn't seem like Nessa had needed him any time during the night, in fact, she looked as though she had slept pretty well. Her shaking hadn't lessened much, but her eyes were clear and a bit of color had returned to her face.

"Um..." He wiped at the dried beer he'd spilled on his shirt in his sleep then moved into the kitchen to consult the digital clock on the oven. "12:10" 

He blinked a few times then looked at the time again before cursing loudly. He was supposed to have been at D.O.G.S. headquarters at 8 AM and it was far too late to go now, the meeting would have been finished an hour ago. Might as well just relax the rest of the day and tend to Nessa, see if she was fit to be on her own.

"Sorry," he muttered, referring to his outburst of swearing, "missed a meeting this morning..." 

Shrugging it off as if it were nothing (though it was serious, he had a feeling his absence would not be ignored) he took the half-gallon of milk from the fridge and poured himself a glass. The wolf didn't really want to eat but he felt a lit groggy and weak since he hadn't eaten any real food in a while and had slept too long. He leaned his elbows on the island in the middle of the kitchen and stared down at his drink. It didn't look too appetizing, he'd rather have a nice chunk of steak, yet it was all he thought he could stomach for now and he forced himself to take a long swig. His tongue was revolted at the taste and he almost coughed the milk up but once it had rushed down his throat it settled well in his stomach.

The were lifted his eyes from his cup to glance up at Nessa before looking down at his shirt. Damn, he was a mess, his white shirt was stained with beer and blood, smelling strongly of alcohol, and  touching his chin he felt the start of a beard growing in. Grunting softly, a bit disgusted in his own appearance, he moved toward the bathroom, pulling off his shirt on the way. After tossing his shirt in tub he grabbed his electric from the counter and was quickly able to trim his facial hair down just to thick stuble like he usually kept it. He splashed water in his face, making himself that much more alert then he went back to the kitchen and to Nessa.           

There was still that air of tension around her but he had grown used to it by now so that it didn't make him too restless. Though, now, with his shirt off and nothing else to wear, he was slightly self-conscious. He shouldn't be uncomfortable at all like he was, he had a great body with years of training it, and that was just the problem. Oddly, it felt too... sexual. She probably wouldn't even register that his shirt was gone, she seemed 'out of it'.   

"Hungry?" he asked her, walking behind the bar/island. She looked alright to eat now, hardly nauseous at all. Though, he wondered if refilling her stomach would make her suck again, since she'd actually have something to throw up. 

[Nessarose Allens]

It seemed that she was not the only one who had an awkward sleep last night, from the way he jumped off the couch at her words, she imagined that he had been restless the whole night. A tiny smirk played upon her lips as she watched him in his own fleeting disorientation. Nes hovered by the door, unsure whether she was to go in or simply stay here, she watched him carefully, he looked as much of a wreck as she did. His shirt was stained with blood and alcohol. For a moment she allowed herself to wonder whether it was her blood, due to the bandage on her arm, she would have to assume that it was.

12:10pm? Wow. The last time she had slept this long had been ... well, almost never, she was not a good sleeper. Last night she must have been exhausted. Perhaps she did not want to know what had happened, perhaps it was best left in the subconsious part of her mind. When he cursed she jumped in suprise and her head snapped up to where he stood. That hadn't been expected. Apparently however, he thought so too as he apologised shortly afterwards. It hadn't been the swearing that made her jump, afterall, Nessa would be hypocritical if she condemed swearing.

Sorry, missed a meeting this morning...

As he took the milk from the fridge, something in her stomach churned and she tried her best not to look sick, although she could feel the colour drain from her face. Nes made her way to a chair in the living room and sat down, trying to ignore the milk that she swore she could smell. In the brief moments that Morrison left her alone she placed her head in her hands again, taking a deep breath and tried to gain control of her own body. As far as she knew, something had slipped last night, something she would have to work hard to regain. The only thing was, she didn't know what had slipped, and she didn't think she would like the answer if she asked Morrison.

Automatically she looked up when he re-entered the room, before dropping her eyes back to the floor immediately. Oh, so now he was going to wander around shirtless? At least he wasn't ... bad looking, because if he was, that probably would have made her sick.

Hungry?

"Ah, n-, as she glanced up, there was a look in his eyes that made her trail off. Something similar to 'if you don't eat, i'll shove this food down your throat' and, she assumed that would hurt a little. "Yeah, sure ... i guess."

[Morrison Whelan]

"Ah, n- Yeah, sure ... i guess."

A little grin broke Morrison's lips and he turned once more to the fridge for something to eat. Even when he wasn't trying to be, he was threatening. He could recognize her sudden change of heart, perhaps feeling that he was set on her eating. In a way he was, but he would be opposed to her taking in any food if was sure that it was only going to make her sick again, he just didn't want it on the floor... At the moment he felt more concerned that Nessa would get the carpet dirty than be sick. Maybe that was a good thing, that he saw that she was recovering so well. It would work out perfect (or as perfect as it could be) for both of them if she didn't find out that he had drugged her. If she did figure it out... Well, he'd have a lot of explaining to do.

The wolf stared at the contents of the fridge for a while before deciding that nothing would sit well with the girl's stomach right now. He didn't want her too eat anything dairy or with too much flavor, it would just upset her. Instead, he grabbed a sliced loaf of bread from the bread box and placed two pieces into the toaster. It was what he always ate when he wasn't feeling too 'dandy', plain toast and ice chips. Perhaps he wouldn't give Nessa ice chips, that seemed a bit childish (his mother had taught him that anyway) and he'd put something on the toast, it was too dry on its own, especially if he managed to burn it. Just in case he forgot about the toast, he switched the toaster to the second lowest setting before moving into the living room.

"I'll be right back," he informed Nessa, his eyes focused on the ground, "have to check on Iivan."

Pressing his hand into his pockets, he turned away from her on one foot and headed to Iivan's room. The injured wolf was sleeping when he opened the door but as soon as Morrison approached the bed, Iivan's eyes opened. "Hey," Morry muttered, kneeling down check the breathing tube. "Have a good sleep?"

The other man held up his hand with his thumb pointing sideways, his eyes glimmering with amusement. He then fumbled around on the bed beside him and grabbed up his notebook.

Human's still here

"Told you she'd be staying for a while," he smiled, moving onto the bed and pulling off Iivan's bandages.

Shirt's off, studly

"Nothing happened," he grinned, reaching into the bedside table's drawer for gauze. He loved his friend for his unflinching humor, even when he was in such a bad state, it made it easier to deal with the all too serious pain in life.

He quickly replaced the bandages then connected an IV bag to the needle in his arm before hanging it up on the metal stand behind his bed so that it dripped down into the needle. "I can't sit around to talk right now," he told the cripple, putting a hand on his arm, "but tomorrow I swear I'll spend some time with you." Iivan mustered a pained smile and a little nod, lifting up his notebook.

Turn the lights on, shut the door

"Will do," Morrison smiled, moving to the doorway. He flipped on the light switch then pulled the door behind him. He didn't like leaving Iivan alone, he feared it would make him too lonely, but he had Nessa to worry about at the moment, so his friend would have to wait for his company for a bit.

When he returned to the kitchen, the toast had already finished cooking. It was a little raw, yet still fairly brown, and it must have just popped up because it was warm. Personally, he didn't understand serving toast cold, Brits were weird. In Ireland he'd never had it cold, as far as he could remember. The wolf dropped the toast onto a plate, spread it with strawberry jelly then poured a glass of water. Nessa might not trust milk now, he noticed how put off she had been by it last night, might have smelled something odd in it. That had been the drugs obviously, but she would have just thought that the milk was expired.

Morrison grabbed up the plate with toast and balanced the water on it while holding his own glass in his other hand. He then moved into the living room and placed the food and drink on the coffee table, closest to the girl before dropping onto the middle of the sofa, glass in hand but not drinking any of it. "So," he said softly, breathing deep through his nose, "sleep alright?"

[Nessarose Allens]

Nes watched with a bemused expression as he stared dejectedly into the fridge to find something for her to eat. To be honest, she was not hungry ar all and after whatever had happened last night, she didn't think she wanted to stomach anything else. However, she knew she had to eat, Nes hadn't eaten since ... she didn't even know when, which mean't it had to be more than two days. Worse than usual. For a moment she let herself sit back in the chair, closing her eyes only for the briefest of moments before opening them once more, to find him placing toast in the toaster. Yes, toast was always a safe option, it had little flavour and little taste, it would be just fine.

As he moved off to find Ivian and see how he was doing, Nes allowed her eyes to trail him out of the room. As much as she hated to admit it, he was a caring person ... wolf ... and the endangerment of his friend had not been taken lightly. Honestly, she knew very few people who would take care of their friend in that state, most would have taken Ivian to a hospital, wolf or not. Again - now that he was out of the room - she let her eyes close, trying to force her body to collude to her wishes. Suddenly, she gasped as a flash of burning eyes appeared in her eyes, she opened them immediately. Oh yes, those she recognised, and she remembered them now as well.

Still here.

It would always be there, she knew that. Not even Jason, who'd looked after her as dutifully as Morrison was looking after Ivian, had been able to remove the voice from her head. It didn't respond to her, to him, did it respond to anyone?

Finally, Morrison came back into the kitchen, grabbed the toast and a glass of water and ambled back into the living room. For a moment she simply stared at the toast, contemplating whether she actually wanted to eat it or not. With a shrug and a half-sigh she snagged a piece and chewed on it haphazardly. It wasn't bad, she was eating it slowly, testing it on her stomach as she went. It still felt like she was sick, Nes did not vomit very often, when she did it was only when she was seriously ill, but that did not stop the feeling of wanting to, which was what she hated the most.

So, sleep alright?

For a moment she pondered this question, unsure on whether she should give the routine 'yes' answer, or go for a more honest one. This conflict was quickly resolved by the fact that Nes was rarely one to follow routine. "Well, i don't really remember .. to be honest, so yeah ... i guess i did." With the sentence, followed a shrug. Had she screamed? She imagined - with the memory of the burning eyes - that she might have, although she could not know for sure. "You?

[Morrison Whelan]

For the first time since Morrison had carried Nessa back up to his apartment, he met her eyes. Though it was only for a moment, he saw enough there to determine that she had returned to sanity. A haunted sort of look still remained there, but it was hidden under general weariness cause by lack of food, little rest, and her episode last night. He also noted that she wasn't shaking anymore, strengthening his belief that the detox drug had worked as it was intended too. However, he had to stay cautious about deeming her drug free, for the drug had worked faster than he thought it should have, meaning her body might have been rejecting it last night instead of the drugs that were supposed to be targeted. Why then, was she not going to withdrawal again? Perhaps he speculated wrong about how the drug would work with humans, maybe it affected them faster because their bodies were comparatively so much weaker than wolves.

Thoughts like this buzzed through the weres head and he was even starting to deconstruct the drugs chemical make up when he suddenly realized that Nessa had been expecting a reply from him. "Oh, fine," he said quickly, a smile flashing over his lips. Morrison told his intellectual brain just to shut up for the moment and continued to speak for a while to make sure that he would not slip back into deeper thinking. "I'm surprised you didn't even wake me up, I'm not usually a deep sleeper..." He trailed off slowly, feeling as if he were rambling, and took a long drink from his glass. Milk dribbled out from between his lips as his throat refused to swallow and he had to spit it back. Damn, why did it taste so disgusting?

Determined not to force himself to suffer the taste any more, he leaned over and set the cup down on the coffee table before leaning back into the sofa once more. The phone in the kitchen suddenly rang and his body jerked forward, ready to preform the familiar move to the kitchen but he made himself relax back into the cushions. He would walk into work tomorrow, looking all bedraggled, and tell his supervisor that he had been hunting the night before and gotten into trouble or something. This story would probably work out better for him than if he simply said that he had overslept. His boss was a fellow wolf anyway, he would understand.

"I take you're feeling better though," Morrison said to Nessa after the phone had stopped going off. "so you can leave tonight if you want, in a few hours." His eyes moved back up to the girl's and he smiled a little ruefully. If she didn't show any more signs of illness in the next five hours or so, he would feel safe letting her go home. His only worry for her was that she would try using any drugs and that she'd take too many. Since her body was now clean of all previous drugs, she had no immunity or tolerance so the smallest amount would have an effect.

[Nessarose Allens]

Sanity and Nessarose were not things that were frequently heard in the same sentence, not even when she was a young child. In a way it defined who she was, in a way it outlined the many faults she was in possesion of, either way, it defined her and so she tolerated it. There were many times she had been questioned as to how she had become who she was, how she had become so confident, and yet so shy at the same time? She was an enigma, a contradiction in her own personality. Her answer to how she had become that way? She had to.

Long after he dropped his gaze from her eyes, she continued to watch him. There was something speculating in his demeanor, something about the way he frowned in either frustration or confusion. A secret? One to do with her? Nes narrowed her eyes, only slightly as she watched the expression play upon his face. It was a constant ripple of movement as he tried to think something through that he could not possibly understand all the components of. It confused her and she could not help but find her own frustration rising. It HAD to be something about her, otherwise there would be no reason for him to do it in her presence. Obviously, he was unaware of it, but she was all too aware.

A deep sleeper? She gave a quiet laughed and raised a single eyebrow in her signature gesture. The way he was looking this morning he seemed to have had little sleep at all, restless. If this was his deep sleeping, she dreaded to think what his restless sleep was. She was about to reply when the phone started ringing and her eyes automatically followed the sound to the kitchen. Waiting, she frowned and looked back to him, he was watching the phone too. He must've known who it was, otherwise he wouldn't ignore it. A fist clenched as she retained her annoyance at the sound. This was one of the reasons she didn't have a phone, the noise was simply too annoying. That, and she had nobody to call, so she really didn't need one. If Atrum needed her, somebody would email her, she had the laptop afterall.

So you can leave tonight if you want, in a few hours.

The snort escaped her before she could stop it and gain composure. He was actually talking like he decided when she would leave. Nes had work to be done - although she did decided when she needed it done by, that was not the point - and she had better things to do than linger in the house of a werewolf. Like ... finding her way home, that was sure to take a few hours. Nes drank some of the water before looking at him with a smile. "Well, thats good. It seems i've invaded upon you and your scruffy self for a little too long."

[Morrison Whelan]

"Well, thats good. It seems i've invaded upon you and your scruffy self for a little too long."

All of a sudden, the Nessa he'd met at the castle was back, just as strong as ever. It was good to know that she was healthy enough to be able to concentrate on being sarcastic and smug, but his temper wasn't suited to handle her remarks. And that smile, how he despised it. In all his life, he'd never met a person that infuriated him so much with so little, expecting a vampire or two perhaps, but that was mostly just his prejudices, humans, he had no problems with.

Morrison merely grunted at her comment, lip twitching with suppressed rage, and he pushed himself off the couch, grabbing his glass of milk. He walked stiffly into the kitchen to drop the cup in the sink before turning to a cupboard and pulling down a box of biscuits. Upon opening it though, he found he couldn't stomach the thought of eating, his belly was to full of hot anger. Most of the anger was confusion. Why the hell was she mocking him when he'd just taken her into his home to keep her safe? She wasn't invading his space, if that had been true, she wouldn't have been in the apartment for more than half and hour.

There was nothing the wolf could think of that he could eat or drink to get himself calm again. He could get another beer, but that would just make his temper worse. Instead, he suited himself with standing in the kitchen and taking a series of long, deep breaths, slowing his frantic heart-rate as best he could. It wasn't working in the slightest, he could feel Nessa's eyes on his back as though her gaze was burning his exposed skin.

With an angry sigh, he turned back around and moved into the living room once more, keeping his eyes on the ground. Purposefully averting his eyes from the woman (he could call her that now, no girl would have the guts to mock him like she did), he dropped down onto the sofa, letting his body sink into the leather cushions. No good, his temper didn't lessen. In fact, it only heightened a bit when the bottle of detox pressed into his leg, pushed up by the couch.

"You know," he said slowly, a sinister little smile on his face, "once you get out of here, I'd avoid accepting anymore food or drinks from strangers." Morrison's hand wandered on his thigh, fingers tracing the outline of the bottle in his pocket and he lifted his gaze to hers for a moment. The look in her eyes made his face flush red and he immediately switched his stare to the carpet. It was all he could do to keep from jumping up and lunging at her.

[Nessarose Allens]

The lip twitch, the fist clench and the sudden removal from the vicinity all pointed to the supressed rage that he was trying hard to control. Although the smirk still remained strong upon her lips, she managed to fight to control the laugh that threatened to break through. She'd never met anybody she could make so angry without even trying, it took a sarcastic comment here, a smug smile there and bam. In a way it was too easy and she would have lost enjoyment had he been anybody else. Morrison had flaws, that was nice to know, especially when he had just revealed to Nessa the way to exploit them. It was something she'd always done once things became out of her control, she found a way to get back some control, his anger had given her the key to this.

Could he feel the satisfied edge to her gaze as she watched him around the kitchen? She knew he'd be able to feel it, everything was heightened in anger, even a werewolf's normal senses would be exentuated in his anger. Nes did not smirk, did not laugh or sneer, she merely allowed the same smile play upon her lips. She knew that this, above everything else, would piss him off the most. How did she know? Because in many ways Morrison was like someone she had known, or .. his temper was at least.

Morrison stalked - it was the only way that it could be described - back to couch, she was mildly impressed that he managed to do this without looking at her once. He put up a calm facade but she could tell he was fuming under the surface. Poor thing, must have had a rough night, unless he was just looking for an excuse to get angry at her. If that was the case, why had he brought her here in the first place? She couldn't remember what had happened, but why had he let her stay?

You know, once you get out of here, I'd avoid accepting anymore food or drinks from strangers.

From the moment he started speaking in the steady, falsely calm voice of his, she knew she would not like the end result. Her eyes watched him the whole time, cold indifference played upon her expression, while her eyes betrayed her emotion. When he finished, it was like a metaphorical slap in the face. His words sunk in slowly and everything begun to make sense. Why she could only remember up until a certain point, why she felt sick, why her head was hurting, why the voice had fire eyes. He. Drugged. Her. "You-", she choked on what she was going to say as he brought his eyes to meet her own, slowly and steadily her own anger began to brim to the surface. Her fist clenched around the glass of water that was still in her hand.

Automatically, her eyes shifted to the movement of his hand, outlining a bottle in his pocket. The shaking had returned, yet this time it was caused by repressed anger as opposed to withdrawal symptoms. "You son of a bitch," the words were not yelled, they were stated calmly, which was possibly worse than a yell. Before she knew what was happening, before she was aware of her own actions she was on her feet and the glass of water she had previously held in her hand was thrown across the living room in an almost-exact aim toward his head. It missed by a hairsbreadth, smashing into the wall behind him. Nessa stared at him for a moment, the indifference on her face did not shift - a mask perfected in moments of dire need - here eyes however, were brimming with anger. She had no knives on her, but that didn't mean this asshole wasn't going to pay for it.

"I hope you had a fucking laugh darling, cause its over." Her voice came out as a cool snarl, Nes made a grab toward the plate that housed the toast, pitching it at his face. Using the distraction to make a sprint to the door. She could not win without a weapon, so she needed to find one.

[Morrison Whelan]

The look in Nessa's eyes was simply priceless and nearly comical in its contrast with the stillness of the rest of her face. Dismay, disgust, pure fury. She knew, or thought she knew, what he had given to her. Clearly she didn't remember a thing from the previous night after the detox had taken affect. He could have done a myriad of terrible things to her last night and explained any physical signs away by pointing out her madness. Of course, the wolf had only being trying to help her by giving her the drugs, so her anger was unfounded. But she didn't know that, so in her mind ripping out his throat would be totally justified. He couldn't blame her to act out violently.

"You-You son of a bitch,"

A sneer pulled the man's expression more serious as he watched Nessa's body shake, every muscle tensing in preparation to fight. Morrison truly would love to battle her and tear her apart, to wipe that clam off of her face. Yet, he'd already invested too much in her and knew he too well. Plus, what would Iivan think when he heard the screams?

Rational thoughts were almost completely pushed aside when she suddenly hurled the glass at his head. He didn't flinch or move out of its way, having noticed it wasn't aimed straight at his face, but he almost regretted that when it smashed into the wall behind him. For Nessa's sake he hoped that the cup hadn't dented the wall, he didn't want to have to replace any of the sheet rock, much less clean up the shattered glass. Some how, Morrison managed to keep himself somewhat composed. His jaw was set and his fists were clenched so tightly that his short cut nails hurt pressed into his palms, but he didn't move form his seat, only cursed low under his breath.

"I hope you had a fucking laugh darling, cause its over."

As he looked up at this, intending to bark an ironic laugh, she threw the plate and toast at him. Another few swears fell from his tongue and he jumped up, reaching out to grab the projectile. The thin edge of the plate hit his palm with enough force to bruise it then bounced back off, landing hard on the coffee table. An angry red dent throbbed on his skin now, but he had at least saved the platter from smashing to bits, it had only received a chip. Nonetheless, Nessa was going to have to suffer for trying to hit him the face with it. If it had managed to make contact, it might have broken his head open.

"You goddamn, ungrateful cunt!" he yelled at the woman in an Irish accent, turning on his heel to march after her.

Why was she going to the front hall? The door was securely locked and it meant that she was just backing herself into a corner. Maybe she could find a weapon there. There were shoes and umbrellas in the closet and there was also a lamp... And, had he left any needles in any of his jackets' pockets? He hoped not. His hands were still held in tight balls as he stood down the hall from Nessa, ready to plow his fists right into her insolent little face.

"You stop right now," he growled in a thick accent, eyes narrowed dangerously, "and I swear I won't put a scratch on you."

[Nessarose Allens]

You goddamn, ungrateful cunt!

Nes gave herself about five seconds from the time he said that to find something to even the odds a little. If it came down to simply fist fighting she could do little damage, Nes wasn't an idiot, she didn't try to imagine she could best a werewolf in a fist fight. After all, she remembered last time, but she would not make the same mistakes again, she was exhausted and sick, but she would not tire herself out so quickly. If worse came to worse then she would escape, the door was locked, she needed the keys. They were in his pocket, but she remembered the window ... how well would she survive a four floor drop?

There was a cupboard door that was slightly ajar, Nes glanced in it quickly, she could hear Morrison behind her now, her heart was accelerating. Obviously, Nessa should be afraid right now, she had effectively cornered herself, but she did not feel cornered, she did not feel afraid. The anger masked everything else, it rose with a fury and Nessa rode with it, her temper was astounding when it really got going, there was no use in trying to calm herself down. The cupboard held an umbrella which she grabbed automatically before spinning to face him. He looked murderous, furious.

You stop right now, and I swear I won't put a scratch on you.

The smile never wavered from her lips, though she laughed and raised her eyebrows in a somewhat mocking gesture. "Unfortunately, i cannot make the same promise." Words were spoken like a shrug, the umbrella was held calmly yet there was a tension in her arm, ready to swing it into action. While she watched him, she was also looking for a way out, or a way to get the upper hand. The options weren't looking good, not that she would admit that.

[Morrison Whelan]

An umbrella. She was going to hit him with an umbrella, and a cheap plastic one at that. Well then, let the games begin.

"Unfortunately, I cannot make the same promise."

Morrison had been prepared for her to launch herself at him, like some heroine in a movie, ready to plunge their weapon into the heart of the villain. When she didn't move, only stood there with the umbrella held loose, yet readied, in her hand, the wolf stayed still for a moment, not sure of what to do. His body had been set to ward off attack, since Nessa would be wanting to find a way out of the restricting hallway. Though, now that she had given her opponent the chance to act first, she would be in even more trouble.

A smooth step forward and his hand shot out, smashing the umbrella backward into the door and bending Nessa's arm with it. With his free hand he clamped down on her throat, shoving her back by it. This should wipe that damn smile off her face. And if not, he'd just smack her around until all her sarcasm was beaten out of her. He was sick of this game, it was way too old by now and he knew for sure that if Nessa didn't give it up soon, she would get herself killed.

The wolf in the back of his mind pulled at him now as his rage towards the entire situation increased. The smell of the woman's adrenaline saturated blood only helped to make it worse. Thick hair rippled painfully over his arms and chest for a moment and claws erupted from his fingers, curling into Nessa's neck. "Stop," he mumbled in a deep growl, half speaking to his own rebellious body and half to the woman.

The word had no effect; his knuckles popped as they began to form paws and fur spread faster over his torso. There had be some way to get rid of the pain and stop the transformation. Almost instinctively, he fell back from Nessa as if she were the source of his agony, as if her rage pained him. Still, there was that determined look in her eyes, he couldn't stand it...

SMACK

Before Morrison realized what he was doing, he had brought his hand around and slapped the woman hard across the face. Damn, had it felt rewarding. His body relaxed with that release of tension and reverted back to its more human state. Some of the wolf's temper had left with that hit, but he was still fuming and his chest heaved with every breath as he took a step away from Nessa, waiting for her reaction.

[Nessarose Allens]

Before she knew what was happening, her hand - and the umbrella within it - was pushed backward, slamming into the door. A hand wrapped around her throat, digging in, making it harder for her to breath. Nessa did not scream, did not cry out as many would expect a woman in her situation to do. It hurt, of course it fucking hurt, but he knew that without her having to cry out, and screaming would not help anything. Nessa was thinking quick, how could she get out of the situation? The door was locked, her umbrella was useless when pinned by his hand. But it was her neck that was the biggest problem, and it only became worse.

Nes saw it in his eyes before it became evident on his body. The wolf, the anger that came with it, she'd seen it enough to know when it was happening and it sent her heart slowly beating into acceleration. She was reminded of Jason, her mother. Had their ending been similar to this? Or had they been unaware of what was happening, she prayed for the latter. Nes was not afraid of her own death, but of the consequence of theirs. A fleeting glance showed her the hair on his arms, and she was pinned here. Suddenly there was a new pain, claws in her neck, Nes sucked in a breath, adrenaline flowing through her body at the pain in her neck. Just breathe Nes.

Suddenly, he backed off, telling him - or her - to stop, trying to control the transformation? Nes pushed herself further against the door, making the gap between them bigger. It didn't help for the slap however, his reach was longer than hers and his hand collided with her cheek easily. It rang in her ears and she resisted the urge to touch it with her hand. There were larger things to worry about. Since the door was locked, the only other way out was the window, which meant she would have to get out of this little situation she had placed herself in.

In a moment she brought the umbrella back and swung it around, there was little movement in the constricted hallway, but she managed to get a throw into his gut. At the same time she kicked out at his stomach, moving forward as she did so, Nes came closer to him, still wary of the wolf inside of him she had overlooked, yet all too keen to get to the window. Nessa brought her hand up, the one he had not previously pinned and she brought it around in a swift motion - for a human - and reciprocated the slap on his cheek. Nes didn't give him time to think, or to retaliate, she made a sprint for the living room automatically. That had been where she saw the window hadn't it?

Yes! Nes got to the window, she swung the umbrella at it, intending to break it. But the crappy, plastic, bitch of a thing broke! Nes glanced behind her, counting her time in seconds, not minutes. Sucking in a deep breath Nes took a small step backwards, before kicking the glass window with her foot, trying to make a hole which could easily be made bigger. An inaudible noise escaped her throat as the glass shards cut into her leg, but ultimately it had worked, there was now a hole in the window. Strangely, she laughed to herself, why did all of their meetings end with her contemplating jumping out of a window? Ah well.

Quickly, she kicked off smaller bits of glass, glancing behind her. Could she make it big enough in time? Could she make the jump?