Navy Blue Eyes.

Her (Anti-)Luck. | .13

Rowan scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, finding her lashes to be sticky as if she'd been crying in her sleep again. She knew it wouldn't be the first time, but it was the first time she woke up with no recollection of what'd made her cry, which was unnerving. Rowan was the kind of child who'd lived with such instability that she depended so much upon the facts she could understand to help her through the ones she couldn't; just as the Quinn's uncomfortable atmosphere of secrecy had terrified her through the meal so did this current lack of understanding. She knew better than to try to remember though, because she was afraid to willingly open up the vault that was her memories to allow negatives in since she'd been given this outstanding (and rare) opportunity to avoid reliving yet another memory from the life she'd miraculously survived before meeting Kellin.

She rolled over a bit to find her bedding wasn't nearly as soft as she'd remembered it being upon falling asleep. She looked down to discover she was laying on what looked like a dirty towel. It was only then that she pushed herself up to sit and examined herself more thoroughly. The shirt she treasured so was damp and muddy, her legs also caked with mud and stray blades of grass, greenish smudges along the backs of her calves and palms of her hands. She didn't even want to imagine the state her hair was in, she'd rather not. She also realized that for the first time in a while, the house was dead silent and she was alone. Her room was dim, only lit by the nightlight cutting in by way of her gaping-open, doorless bathroom. She wasn't sure if the light was left on intentionally or not but either way she was grateful. She'd never been scared of the dark much, only the fact that it offered others the opportunity to lurk unseen. However, here in this house she felt that sense of trust that was oh so new to her as it reassured her that no one who would harm her was here. She slid from the pallet of towels atop her bed, her dirty feet probably ruining the floor but she didn't much care, she had other things on her mind and knew she'd contend with cleaning later.

She shuffled to the bathroom, running the tips of her mud-crusted fingers over the light-switch before deciding to leave it off and just use the dimmer nightlight to see by, all the while being careful not to make much noise. For one she didn't want to disturb the family and she also wanted to cherish this moment of alone time. She entered, treading lightly, and checked the small clock on the counter. Its green numbers shone, the print of 3:13AM cast an alien glow on her hands she she fumbled about for what she desired. Even though the light was on the room wasn't brilliantly lit and the cupboard was hard to see, still she felt her palm brush over something soft and grabbed ahold. She tugged out the clean towel and smaller washcloth and set them on the counter before closing the creaky cabinet door so slowly she thought she'd missed a birthday by the time it closed softly. She took the washcloth in her hand as she scooted over to the tub, twisting the knob with great attention and patience whilst holding the cloth beneath the faucet. As the water began to run its sound was muffled by the dampening hand-towel just as Rowan had planned. The water was running so slow that Rowan knew it'd take ages to fill but it was worth it if she didn't have to have yet another bath with Katelynne by her side or Kellin sitting on the closed toilet with his back to her. It's not to say she wasn't grateful for their care but she was beginning to feel so suffocated she'd thought she might explode and knew that, if they were all to continue living in such close quarters, this moment of peace was needed. She eventually shrugged out of Kellin's shirt and her boy-short underwear, laying them out on the far side of the counter, before sliding into the heated water. It was just the right temperature, hot enough to make her skin tingle and beg her to evacuate but cool enough it wouldn't blister and leave any residue. She felt alive, like her every nerve was shocked awake, as she pushed herself further into the bath. Once the majority of her was beneath the surface she stretched her hand out for the body wash she'd been given, lathering up the washcloth and sudsing up her skin, rubbing away the viscous substance from everywhere it was.