She returns with an oversized sweater.

It looks like it could cover me just barely past my butt. My shirt is mostly intact (thank god for metal snaps), but barely covers my swollen midsection. Em tries to wipe as much blue stuff off of me as she can, but it sticks to my skin obstinately.

She does the best she can groaning and pouting the whole time. Her face is all screwed up like when she's concentrating (usually on a dirty story I'm telling). Emma's breathing is heavy and she's biting her lower lip a bit. Does she like this? I can't focus. She's scared and confused like me. She must be.

At the end of the hallway there's an emergency exit. We peak out the door to make sure no one is looking