visiting hours;; {not640pixels}
The infirmary was most definitely not one of the places Touka wanted to be in her current state. Fractured shoulder? She could tough it out. A chunk out of her leg? Slap a bandage on it. What she couldn't deal with, though, was the faces and scents of the injured as they trekked in and out. After a while, the traffic had died down to a crawl, leaving her nearly alone in the place. She had protested staying any longer than she had to, but apparently her injuries and inability to move her left arm had told her otherwise. And so she waited in silence, head tilted back against the bed rail, left arm slung across her chest.
It was boring as hell, and she honestly wanted something to do so she didn't have time to think on the events of the past few weeks. Reflection was never a good thing for Touka. One thing led to another, and eventually guilt would eat away her motivation to do anything. She had to keep moving. She couldn't backtrack.
Her single visitor, however, would break that line of thinking completely. Upon hearing the footsteps, her eyes snapped open and her body tensed. Immediately, her gaze locked on the empty doorway that had yet to be entered. The scent was vaguely familiar, but she prayed that it wasn't who she thought it was.
Then again, her presence could also be just what Touka needed. Her words caught in her throat for a moment, but she managed to get them out in the end.
"...who's there?"
