If this was how he was going to handle their newly-formed awkward arrangement, she was going to have a hard time even sitting in the same car as him, let alone living with him until this was taken care of. There were too many pauses, too much in the way of formal wording. The writer in her was screaming that this scene was too contrived and that it would never work. These two people couldn't cohabitate anything without there being an issue later down the line. There was no way.<br/><br/>For the sake of trying to make it through in one piece, she would ignore every instinct inside of her that was telling her to take it back, to deal with Rafe on her own. It was with that in mind, she didn't vocalize any of her feelings and allowed him to continue ahead as normally as he could manage.<br/><br/>Even if that normal was far below what she knew of him.<br/><br/>So, when he reminded her they'd have to leave this awkward bubble and get into an even smaller space, her heart sank, but she nodded. There wouldn't be a fight with him about helping, as it would've made for more unnecessary conflict. All she did was grab up her things, do one last look-around her apartment to make sure she had everything she needed to start with, and left, locking her door behind him. One foot in front of the other, Sofia let herself go on autopilot as they descended the stairs and made it outside toward his car, each step bringing her away from certainty and into more of the unknown.<br/><br/>What she hadn't expected was to rehash the last encounter she'd had. The woman had given the account at the police station with the cops who'd wanted a debrief, and now she was having to give another one. The silence that followed his question lingered, visibly uncomfortable as she grappled with the mental image branded in her mind of<span style="font-style: italic">him</span>over her.<span style="font-style: italic">Him</span>in her one sacred space. Fingers fiddling with the base of her light coat, shrugging as her teeth embedded the inside of her lip. A shaky breath escaped, but still no words came out, struggling to find the words to describe what happened, as the only thing she could easily say was, had the gun not been there, she wouldn't have been standing there then.<br/><br/>"I don't know how he got in," Sofia started quietly, keeping her eyes focused ahead as her mind became wholly focused. "The only thing out of the ordinary was I hadn't gotten any emails...or pictures...nothing from him at all that day. I thought maybe, just maybe, I was going to have one day without him." A soft, bitter laugh dripped free of the last words, tapering off into silence again before she countinued. "I was wrong. I'd gone to bed, and had laid there for a good while just waiting for sleep to take me, oddly at ease. At some point, I'd nodded off and started to wake up as I felt... I don't know, I just felt like I wasn't alone. And the first thing I saw were his eyes... Eyes that just...they were so focused...the rest of him completely still even after the realization that I was awake..."<br/><br/>Each word she managed to get out was becoming tenser in tone, each breath shakier as the memory of that night took complete hold. Rather than go over the fight that ensued, the struggle, she skipped ahead and cleared her throat. "I managed to grab my gun and I fired. He's...He's got a wound now somewhere on his head. Maybe the ear? But, he ran and I've been just waiting."<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Waiting to die...waiting to live...waiting for some sort of an absolution that would never come...</span>her mind added.<br/><br/>"Does any of that help?"