Gerard
Amelie had quickly pocketed her phone after finishing that conversation with sigrún. Amelie was being foolish and stumbling over herself like a toddler unknowing of how to walk. Amelie did know what she was doing, hardly, her foolish antics have done nothing but hurt others. She has felt nothing but scattered lately, it wasn't like this before what happened. 

Foolish girl who dosent know how to speak without hurt seeping into that delectable pool of hatred. She had been falling into it more often. Did those bullets take away a part of her mind as well, was she nothing more than a beast of pain that invoked woe upon others? Was she nothing more than this... Thing? 

Every step with her crutches seemed heavier than the last, her ears felt like they were foaming over with insects curling in her mind and throat. She wished to spit them out and pull them out but she knows she couldn't, she never could, It only came with being alive. 

The halls seemed long where Amelie's mind was short and shallow with a boiling threat. She made a mistake, one that was eating at her now with the rest of them. 

Before she knew it, she was standing at Anja's door with a hand raised to knock. Should she? Would she make everything worse, probably. Finley would say it's the thought that counts, what thought. Amelie still has nothing even though she's digging through all she can. Amelie just knocked once, she stared ahead to the door. Looking at it's wood seem to distort slightly because of how hard she looked at it. Amelie looked and felt pathetic.
Simon
Anja's pacing.
The place looked. Fine. It was fine. She didn't want to move anything of Ashton's, so she just perfected everything in her own room.
Straightened papers, organized closet, neatly tucked bedsheets.
It was fine.

She shouldn't come check up on her.
It wasn't fair to her! She might've been hurt by her and instead of justifiably wanting to distance herself she's coming to console her and coo her. It wasn't fair to her.

She shouldn't've pushed Ashton away. No. He didn't need this either.
Nobody should be focused on the sad little girl in the corner. It would've been easier to forget.

She's clenching her fist, shit. It stings like fire ants deciding to wage war against her flesh.
She runs her hand underneath a faucet. It felt like it helped.

A knock. Dread settles in, unfortunately.
It wouldn't've been Ashton. He just enters in quietly and quickly. Always remembers his fob.

She shuts off the tap, wipes her still stinging hand. Does she open it? Does she let her face... This?
A breath hitches.
She grabs the doorknob. Turn.

Face the music, Leta.

"...Hello miss." It creaks out, like a floor being stepped on wrong at the worst times of night.
"I... I apologize. I should not have made you come here."
Gerard
Amelie just looked at Anja, a scoff painting the air between them. 
"You didn't make me come here, I did it myself." 
Her hand which was left waiting in the air came to brush down some invisible dust on her jacket. 
"I should've known to have said such things would have such an effect."

Amelie should've known better than to have said those things at all, Anja deserved to know. She cannot take back what she said but she wishes she could've said it better. 

Hands itch and minds waver in their thoughts, they're both at a crossroad. Amelie speaks from her heart, and it was an odd organ she never trusted. 
"I just need to see you, simple." 

She rests her hand back onto her crutch, there's something tense about this that dosent need to be said out in the hallway. 
"Frau leta, may I enter. I feel as this conversation will be better without the prying eyes of others."
Simon
Wordlessly, she gave Amelie space to enter the dorm.
Ashton had left for... Some reason. She didnt really know what he was up to lately.
It was a shame, ever since the formal they've been... Distant. Like two ghosts haunting the same halls that never seemed to be on the right floor.
She only hopes he forgives her.

She couldn't face Amelie.
She was afraid of seeing the disdain that she was so rightfully deserved. 
Amelie was in there. She tried making everything in there sick.
She didn't care about who would've been hurt.
She felt sick.

"You shouldn't want to see me."
Every word felt like they were being forced out. She didn't deserve to be forced to hear her. She shouldn't've said anything.

Anja keeps her head tilted down, ashamed.
Gerard
Amelie silently thanked Ashton, she didn't know if she could handle the possible judge-like stare he could give. She didn't want him here in the first place though she hoped it didn't bring offense. 
She barely sees the boy anymore anyway. Amelie should talk to him. 

Amelie didn't care about what Anja did that time, Anja didn't know and she cannot change that as much as Amelie is being hypocritical it is the truth. A sinners words that will provoke consequences. 

"Yet I do anyway."
Amelie hates how Anja is looking like a wet dog, she was a steely woman reduced to now this. 
"Frau Leta, nothing will make me turn away from you."

She hopes Anja knows that.
Simon
Anja's gaze stays towards the floor. She could've swept better. She always thought that.
There was always the stray patches of dust that came to light during her stress. Everything else had to look good before she could make her own appearances.

Her guilt would stomp down anything reassuring to her. It's taken over her thoughts before. If it had ever left, that is. Instead, it was like a mold, spreading across her mind and plaguing her more and more.

"You are too kind." 
Far too kind to her. Especially for someone who was hurt by her.
Perhaps she grabbed her hand. Perhaps she deserved it.
She did.

Why didn't she want to leave? What was keeping her here?
Gerard
"You should know by now that I am not." 
She speaks with a shattered mind, her voice collapsed into a pool of indescribable feeling but all never the same. 
"I am only kind to those deserving, and you? Are more than deserving." 
Is it depraved to say that Anja was needing?

She dug into her jacket and brought out a pen, she waved it around like a wand of questionable sorts before she tapped Anja's collar with it. 
"This is the closest I can get to physical reassurance so forgive me."
Amelie slid the pen against Anja. It dug slightly into her skin. 

"Anja Leta. You did not do it with the intent to hurt another person, you got hurt instead."
Amelie hums, the pen trailing from her collar to the scarred hand. 
"You've been hurting over something that truly isn't your fault for long enough."
'They're still breathing' she wants to tell Anja. They would never be hurt by you, not in a way that to could leave a mark. Not like you did me. 

"I personally think you deserve nothing but the best and I was the one in the coma, Ms. Leta."