As Ethan incoherently mumbled a denial to any further assistance, she slowly nodded her head and stood, pushing the small table closer to him in case he was in any need of water or some Advil. When he offered to take his car, she simply shook her head with a smile. "No, I'm okay, thank you though. I'll be alright." Though, she knew that he wasn't actually worried about her getting home. He probably didn't even realize what he was offering, she wasn't even sure that he knew who she was. But she paid no mind to his unwitting words, she simply offered him a smile and shrugged on her jacket. She couldn't stay here all night, this wasn't her home, so she may as well get going.<br/><br/>As she gathered her things, she turned to see him drifting off to sleep. He may have been oh so drunk, but if she was honest, she'd never seen him so peaceful in the two days that she'd known the young man. She scribbled a note onto a piece of paper, saying that she would be by in the morning to drop off some pain killers for his ribs, and hopefully something that would help with the inevitable hangover he would be hit with tomorrow morning. She ripped the paper off the pad and walked over, placing the note under the pill bottle. She looked over him, his dirty blond hair falling in front of his eyes as he slept. She sighed and brushed it away before standing again, grabbing her phone and making her way out. She quietly opened the door, closing it behind her and descending down the flight of stairs. It was nearly four in the morning.<br/><br/>She eventually made her way back to the safety of her home, though she knew that she wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. She simply went back to her lab and began to continue the project she had wrapped up earlier that morning, working until the sun rose, peeking through the window. She had a habit of going days at a time without sleep, simply working on her project. This day would be her third, but it was something she was used to. She would cat nap in the day, but that really didn't make up for any of her lack of sleep. She was very much deprived. She tended to overwork, it was her way of avoiding her problems. Some people called it running away, she called it coping. If she went to a doctor, they'd no doubt diagnose her with insomnia, which, she guessed, was true. Though she wasn't about to take sleeping pills. She was fine. She thought she was fine. But to the select few that paid attention to the girl, the dark rings under her eyes and her sunken cheeks paired with her pale skin gave her away. Though no one commented, no one cared enough to help. So she just kept doing what she did. Some people may call it self-destruction she called it survival.