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A warm breeze reminded Aria of a calloused hand on her cheek. She had been so foolish, leaning into it when she knew that it wanted to wield her like a weapon. If it was just a momentary lapse in her judgment, if it was only brought on by the mess she'd been left by that storm, she wouldn't have been dwelling on it.
Aria wanted nothing more than to throw herself into the dirt and cry, but no matter how she felt, her eyes remained dry. Maybe she was no longer capable of it. Perhaps all her tears had been used up when she was strung up from that godforsaken tree.
Aria couldn't remember what it was like to cry when feeling upset. She couldn't recall the last time she had. Maybe she was never able to do it to begin with.
Exhaustion was heavy in her bones. Not for the first time, she wished she'd died ages ago. Living should not have been so tiring.
It wouldn't likely be better if she tried not to think about the cabin or the file or the occasional tingling in her limbs. What was done was done. There was nothing to be gained from wallowing. No use in clinging to the ruins of something that never existed to begin with. Though she knew this, she didn't have any strength to bother.
The wind tore through her like claws. She shuddered where she was, but could not bring herself to curl into herself for warmth.
Aria shut her eyes. If she woke, she resolved, she would go on.
Like always, Aria woke.
Like always, Aria went on
✗
Only one night went by before she had a realization.
It was a habit to lay low, to keep moving without garnering attention. What was stopping her from doing as she pleased? It's not like she had to use her abilities to cause a little chaos. Nobody would be on the immediate lookout for a siren unless the Elites leaked the information and they would likely keep her existence a closely guarded secret so she didn't fall prey to the other side.
It took little effort to steal some equipment - a tent, radio, and some matches. Aria found all of it in the back of a Hunter's van along with a terrified young woman around her age. The woman had fled without a word as soon as her legs were freed, nearly knocking down Aria in the process. It was understandable enough. After removing what she wanted, she punctured the tires and set the van on fire for good measure.
Setting a brick on the gas and letting it run would've achieved the same thing, but it didn't feel quite like enough when she thought about the blood on the carpet.
Klaus would appreciate it if he was around. The thought made her strangely sad. He'd never been anything but kind to her. It was difficult to think he might've been playing with her while also helping Eli with collecting information on her or even agreeing to hand her over to the Elites at some point. While Eli and Alex seemed to view the Elites as necessary or neutral, Klaus seemed to hate the organization altogether.
