He's considerate. It's the first thing she realizes when she comes too; damp towels pressed to her face. Vhalla feels him wrap his denim jacket around her bare chest and she feels his fingers brush her nipple. Biting back a moan she closes her eyes shut to get a better handle on her instantly heated body. It's just from the lack of blood, she tells herself but she briefly wonders if it really is. Dragging in a ragged breath, she's thankful when he finishes wrapping his jacket around her to hide her heated state. Vhal is once again caught off guard at how her body reacts to him, she has never wanted to use sex as a means of pleasure, but rather as job, yet here she was, hot for the faerie.

Cursing herself, she thinks of dark and mutilated things to calm her breathing, which she is certain he had to have noticed the change by now. Feeling him, rather than seeing, slide next to her against the wall, their arms brush in the closeness of the bathroom but Vhal doesn't draw away. She's exhausted but she enjoys the random companionship she had found in the fae beside her. She's suddenly aware that now that she was bandaged up as best as possible, the questions would be rolling in.

The assassin was impressed he had held off as long as he did. When he responds she laughs quietly, "Mmmm, the fact that you think a woman, covered in blood and scars, is beautiful; well, I think that would be up for discussion," she jokes weakly. Her head lolling tiredly to the side and finding a resting position on his shoulder. "Sorry," she mumbles but doesn't make an attempt to move. She knows if she falls asleep now, she wouldn't be waking up for half a day, maybe more. Feeling his arm move to take a swig of the bottle she stiffens when he inquires about her situation.

Relaxing after a moment, it was only fair that she was honest with him after helping her. Pausing for a long while, she groans when her arm begins to throb. Lifting it to inspect the bandaging process, she's pleased to see that the blood was no longer soaking through it. Sighing, Vhalla begins, "No, not hunters. I was on a job from my mast- employer," she quickly corrects herself in her exhausted state, "I was doing surveillance and thought I had gathered all the information that I needed, when I went in to retrieve what was rightfully owed, I was outnumbered and caught off guard," she shrugs casually, this was a normal day in her world.

"Needless to say, the man got away and I was wounded in the process. They're nothing more than highly skilled soldiers doing their duty," she comments dryly. A pounding on the door causes Vhalla to lurch upright into a crouch, her body sliding slightly in front of Darien as if she were protecting him, a snarl twisting her features into something deadly. Her scarred back partially exposed to the faerie, she instantly feels dizzy and wobbles, latching onto his thigh to steady herself, her hand a little too close to his private area. Vhal notes that she's accidently done just that and removes her hand slowly after he's done yelling at the door.

Turning to watch him out of the corner of her eye, she reaches for the silver bar on the wall to drag herself to a standing position, leaning heavily against it, she sucks in ragged breaths. The assassin feels like she's standing on new born legs. "I'm certain those men are patrolling my apartment if they aren't still here," she responds, "I'm going to need help with wherever I'm going, unfortunately." Watching him stand and brush off his bottom she takes a glance at his blood coated hands.

"Thank you, Darien," she says his name for the first time, rolling off her tongue nicely. "Can you help me with my suit again?" she asks this time instead of demanding. Turning her back to him, she unwraps the jacket from her chest and notices that splashes of her blood had coated it and handed it back to the fae. She owed the man a new outfit if anything. Slowly sliding her arms back into the suit jacket, she winces as the bandages brush the sleeve. After what felt like an eternity she manages to wriggle in and keeps a hand on the silver bar to support herself, waiting for him to re-clasp and zip her. Typically, she's able to reach her back to undo the intricate design of buttons, but in order to do so, she needed both hands.

Before she had learned how to get in and out of the suit, her master had thoroughly enjoyed teaching her how. Shuddering at the thought, she feels his warm hands on her, "You don't have to worry about killing yourself this time, I disengaged all the weapons on the suit. Feel free to roam," she doesn't know why she says it and Vhalla is surprised at her own audacity given their current situation. Letting him finish his work, the assassin then struggles along the outside of the bathroom using the wall as a support to reach the corner where she disposed of her weapons.

Reaching down she gathers all of the items and replaces them in their rightful place, lastly retrieving her wicked looking dagger and sliding it into place in her boot. Dragging her blue eyes back to Darien, she watches him tiredly; Vhal is still amazed that he hasn't run for the hills, "My name is Vhalla, I suppose it's only fair to tell you my name since you told me yours, Tink," she smiles sheepishly. Suddenly, all humor vanishes from her face while she chews over her next words, "You don't have to help me anymore, I would understand if you wanted to leave through that door and never come back," she gestures with her head towards the locked door.

Part of the assassin wishes he would so that he wouldn't be seen with her and acquire a target on his back, yet the other part hoped he would continue to help her, partially out of need and want. Her eyes search his face for his answer, waiting.