#chat. leyla

Maybe part of Aiyla didn't want to know who would break the vote, but she wished she had figured it out. The sick game, she should have known. The sick mind games Hande was predisposed to, the Catalyst she knew better to trust their word and yet it was all they had. She told herself that again and again- it was all the had and yet she couldn't shake the image of Leyla's broken body from her mind. A glitch in her memories splicing the loss of Defne with the near miss with Leyla left her heavy in the chest. Guilt was a motivator when she paired it with her love and rage gliding into the hospital room, she wouldn't ask permission to see her best friend she would just be there as she had for her. Slipping in beside her bed Aiyla held up a small crocthed frog she'd made the night it all happened whens he couldn't sleep. "Hey," She whispered pushing a bit of hair from Leyla's face, her frown temporary and fleeting as she smoothed her face into brave regality that swam and fractured. "I'm so sorry, Leyla. I should have known."

Pacing her tent floor so long she worried she would draw a hole in the floor, Aiyla was consumed with the heavy thoughts of Leyla's panic attack. Watching her friend crumble under the weight of all the terrible things had made it almost impossible to sleep the night it occurred. She tossed and turned, trying to draw a map of solutions in her mind. A way to build trust in the Court for Leyla, the same trust she herself had for most of them. A trust she knew her friend needed, something she wanted her to have as the days between when Hande last attacked and when she would inevitably show up again grew thinner. Aiyla shuddered to think of the message in her own blood that Hande had left on their walls, the warning that had left her grasping to her will to fight in the middle of the street. A will that solidified the night of the Fae Ball; when faced with unimaginable horrors and tragedy, Aiyla did not feel herself sink but instead felt a flame blaze inside of her, fortified in iron. She was not consumed by her fear, her fear was swallowed by her rage...and maybe she would always have that anger, even after time had passed and it shrank into a kernel she could hold in the palm of her hand.

Rage for what had been done to her, her friends, and everyone in this town flamed the sadness and concern she paced through until she decidedly left her tent and went to find Leyla. She did not know if she had heard about what happened with Dilan, nor was she ready to dump that at her feet. That was a burden for Aiyla to shoulder on her own for a moment longer. Her most present concern was her friend, "Merhaba," Aiyla gestured to the space beside her before coming closer, "Nasılsın?" she asked, concern knitting her brows together, her hands folded in front of her body. "Çok özür dilerim," Aiyla expressed a deep and sincere apology. For babying Leyla, for not being there in the game, for her difficulties in trusting the court, for all the misunderstandings, and for the horrific way Leyla must have felt losing another piece of her wing. "Can we talk?"