Poppy pulled him back, not turning her back on Evan until they turned the corner. Even then, she kept checking over her shoulder. Everyone was at lunch, so the hallways were empty, and when she finally stopped, she turned to him with a worried look on his face.
"No, God, are you kidding me?" She put her hands on his upper arms and tried to catch his eye. "Francis, you saved me."
He looked at her, then gently took one of her arms. "I didn't know it was this bad," he said quietly, referring to the bruises. "Are you okay?"
Her pulse quickened under his fingertips, and she wasn't quite sure why. "I'm fine," she said, giving him a melancholy smile. "They just.. they ache a little."
She shook her head, looking down at the ground. "You've already done so much," she replied. "Don't worry."
"I don't think so," she said quietly. "I think..." She hesitated, and then pinched the bridge of her nose. "I hope that's the worst of it."
She gave him a rueful smile, pulling her arm back to her side. "You're just one guy, Francis," she said quietly. "You can only do so much."
She observed him for a moment, almost as if trying to figure him out. Her eyes studied him as if he were a specimen under a microscope; thoughtful and calculating. Finally, as if pushed by impulse, she hugged him, her arms encircling his ribcage quickly before pulling away. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Thank you for your help."
She pulled away quickly, obviously a little embarrassed and surprised at herself. "Okay. Okay. Sorry. Thank you." She pulled her sleeve down self-consciously, turned on her heel, and headed for the lab, mentally scolding herself.
He watched her go, a confused look on his face. After a moment he smiled slightly, and went to go the field.
