Violet rarely speaks, so when you find yourself hearing her voice, you either cherish it or start running.
Being a selective mute who's power is to disappear, Violet Hargreeves hasn't aged ever since Five's powers kicked back at her for trying to st...
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They had missed Reginald at the Gala and the whole thing turned out to be unsuccessful; the Swedish brothers, as Five had described, were from the commission sent after him to stop him trying to fix the apocalypse happening. Again.
They got back and honestly, all Violet wanted was some food and rest - which she got, thankfully. But she was advised by Diego to avoid anything Elliot attempted to cook and after smelling whatever concoction he created last night, she was glad she took his advice.
It seemed she was constantly exhausted and falling asleep wasn't a problem. Waking up, however, was.
Five had gently tapped her arm to wake her from her curled up position on the couch to let her know he was going to get Vanya and Diego had already left for Luther; she could only imaging his disdain at that.
For a short while she would be left alone and even though Five appeared clearly hesitant to leave her, he knew if he asked that she'd decline to come with him.
Besides, she needed to keep a low profile considering her 'missing' status and the fact her other attacker was still out there.
In hindsight it would be safer for her there.
Violet hadn't argued and waved bye to him while rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
A couple hours of doing nothing didn't seem like much fun and she was still tired - maybe it was the stress of the last few days piling up on her shoulders, but even after making herself a coffee with two sugars, the caffeine did nothing for her.
Instead, the very act of drinking a nice hot drink made her want to curl up again and nod off.
To keep herself occupied she focussed solely on binding her stab wound together until the skin connected once more and she was left with nothing but an ache and a little pink line above her hip.
The mere thought of mending her broken digits made her want to cry - she hated the feeling of her broken bones moving beneath her skin to come back together and seal.
It was hard to explain - but it was like breaking it again but in reverse, and slower. It created immediate discomfort as they moved and pushed things around inside her body depending on where the break was.
The relief, she knew from experience, would be instant.
It was psyching herself up for the process of healing that was hard.
After a few moments of pacing and glancing at her heavily bruised, knobbly knuckles, she finally sat herself down on the edge of the couch and took a deep inhale before starting.
Automatically she brought her other hand up to bite her sleeve with a scrunched up face as her bones moved.
There was a crunch that made her stomach twist and a few audible clicks as the bones fused back together - when they were all fixed, a process that took about five minutes in total, she let out a relieved breath and shook her hand out.
