#a. bellefield.

Milla’s relieved to see that the other face she’s recognized so far down here is a friendly one, though she approaches awkwardly because, for obvious reasons, she knows she won’t be familiar to him. It doesn’t stop her, though, not when she can tell he’s exhausted and worry wins out.

The day is uncommonly warm for early March, sunny and partly cloudy, so naturally Santiago can’t stand being inside. He takes frequent breaks with no real proper excuse; he’s proficient and quick enough in his work, and unassuming enough that nobody really even seems to notice.

With over a year at the Institute behind him, there’s a lot of trust Milo finds he can now put in the ornate halls and immaculately groomed grounds outside. Unfortunately, that trust still has yet to fully extend to the infirmary. It’s gotten to the point where he can go there for minor injuries — getting a band-aid isn’t enough to send him spiraling into a panic attack anymore — but anything that’d require additional treatment still has him balking at the prospect.

So when he’s pretty sure he’s sprained his ankle in training, Milo masks the limp as well as he can ( which is pretty well; “thanks,” Essex ) to avoid being sent and instead heads back to his and Oliver’s room — but not before placing a quick call to Atticus. It’s been a while since he’s had to ring him up, at least, but no matter the amount of time or how willing he knows his friend is to help, the guilt is inevitable. Unfortunately, this ankle won’t heal itself, so Milo has it propped on a couple of pillows and is leaning back against the headboard when he hears a knock at the door. “It’s open!”

Blake’s still penciling down a few ( unflattering ) notes about the last idiot that vacated the seat across from her when it's already got a new occupant, and she has to do a double-take at his costume before she laughs. “Hey, check us out! Points for unintentional coordination, right?”