She was holding on by a thread. Her mind was so consumed with that look, with those eyes that made her feel so much less than human, made her feel worthless, made her feel like she was nothing but dirt beneath his shoes... She felt like, at any given moment, her body would give out and she'd be granted the easy way out. Every part of her felt stretch thin, pulled to her limit as she warred with herself. What would it be like if she just gave herself over? If she took what was inevitably coming down the road and got it over with? What would it be like if she just let herself go, taking the bottle of pills she'd eyed in hopes that her end would be swift and painless, drifting off to sleep as her organs shut down and her heartbeats ceased for the final time? What would it be like if she went to meet him, gun in hand, and tried to take him out before he took her out?<br/><br/>If only so that he didn't get the satisfaction, and if only so that her sister wouldn't have died without justice...she remained. But her sanity and mental hold was diminishing. Piece by piece, her mind was succumbing to the constant fear of his retribution. No matter how many times she told herself she was fine, the voice inside her head that said otherwise was becoming louder and louder, unable to ignore it anymore. And now that they had reached this point, everything about her felt so fragile that a breath of wind could shatter her. She hardly trusted herself alone with her thoughts anymore so she continued to focus on her writing, on her books, struggling to maintain the normalcy she'd possessed before he'd infiltrated her life.<br/><br/>And then, something pulled her out of her thoughts and had her eyes sliding over to him for the first time since retelling what'd happened in as much detail as she could manage. That something was what she'd heard in his voice, shocking her out of the loop of abusive barrage of images that'd filled her mind, any semblance of what she'd hoped was a strong facade melting away for a glimmer of a moment. In that moment, wrapped in a blanket of fear and desolation, he reached her. In that moment, she knew he meant exactly what he said and that, while he felt the same way she did about the arrangement, he wouldn't allow anything to happen despite their reason for this arrangement.<br/><br/>Though she didn't say anything back, she gave the smallest of nods, the only acknowledgement she could trust herself to give before allowing her eyes to travel back out the window as she focused on her breathing.<br/><br/>In.<br/><br/>Out.<br/><br/>In.<br/><br/>Out.<br/><br/>Before she knew it, they were pulling into a garage, and her breath hitched. This was it. She'd crossed the threshold into his space, his place, and would be residing there until this was done and over with, to whatever end. It felt heavy, just the idea of living in his spare room, like a spare thought, like the pain he couldn't escape from but would endure for Ana.<br/><br/>Following his lead, she entered his home and was immediately greeted by a large dog, its deep growl causing her to freeze as she waited for direction...only to watch the instant change come over the animal by Vincent's direction. Remaining still as she came voer and sniffed, she was in awe of her, all she could do more than she'd anticipated. "You've thought of it all," the woman said, the first words spoken since early on in their ride over. Her own voice was hollow, but sincere.<br/><br/>"How will this work?" she found herself asking, needing to focus on something, needing to fill the void again. "Where you have work, and I've work...what will the arrangement be?"