<span style="font-style: italic">Come on…come on…</span>she thought, pen tapping on the desk as she waited for the clock to finally shift to five o’clock, the “hour of freedom” as she’d come to call it.<br/><br/>The day had dragged on, longer than it normally did. Why? More than likely because she was constantly dwelling on Elijah…and not entirely in a manner that was wholly focused on her objective, either. Part of her mind simply continued to run over how the moonlight had hit his eyes, at how he had the perfect amount of stubble, at how muscular he looked…at how all of that made up for his complete lack of social skills.<br/><br/>At how the lack of social skills made him endearing…and made her feel all the guiltier, because he was so damn innocent.<br/><br/>…Then she thought of all that he did.<span style="font-style: italic">He volun-fucking-teers. He is a regular Joe Schmoe with a heart of fucking heart of gold that I’m going to stab, and rip out of his damn fucking chest!</span>The anger and resentment toward her sisters then was sudden, volatile, the glass on her desk shattering at the sudden drop in temperature in her office. Pieces of its broken remains tinkling into her desk, along with the water scattering over the contents of her desk before subsequently freezing caught her attention and threw her into a quick panic.<br/><br/>Shutting the door of her office, she picked up the glass, and pulled the unopened space heater box from beneath her desk, taking it out and turning it on to melt the water, making it easy for wiping up. Paper towels and glass in her small trash can, she decided it wasn’t good to stay the rest of the day, not with her current lack of control. She couldn’t risk it.<br/><br/>Hands grabbing for her coat and bag, she left with barely a word, only making brief mention of it to the associates she passed before fairly running from the establishment. Then came the brisk walk to the park while simultaneously pulling her coat on, making a beeline for her favorite bench, wanting peace. To reconnect with nature, with the mindset needed, to figure out what to do. Only once did she have to stop, because her bag fell free of her grasp and she had to double back for it, and only once did she have to slow her pace as the ground was far slicker than she'd anticipated and her heels made for a harder time gripping the pavement (or lack thereof).<span style="font-style: italic">The one time I resent my element,</span>she thought, glaring at the ground beneath her feet for the briefest of moments.<br/><br/>The plan? To get her mind clear, and, her mind was clear, figure out how to find "Mr. Perfect" again.<br/><br/>After that, as Annelise had said, "the rest is arbitrary."