"Ashes Reborn, Trauma Reformed" Nimona

"Trust"

"You can't keep running off when you're upset, kid." Ballister puffed, hands on his knees as he regained his breath.

The morning air was as bitter as the day before, raising goosebumps along any bare skin that the icy breeze could graze, adding shivers to the already shaking form of the teen sitting ahead of him, her frame half hidden by the trodden down grass in the field she occupied alone.

The closer he got, the more apparent her condition was, and Ballister couldn't help but sigh as the fabric of her clothes clung soggily to her body.

"I can do what I want." The distant reply came, the sentence barely complete via the interruption of chattering teeth.

"You're gonna get sick."

Nimona scoffed, his concern brushing over her like water of a ducks back.

It wasn't that she couldn't find shelter. She just didn't care enough to try, and by enabling her own reckless carelessness, she found herself sitting and hugging her knees in an unused crop field, the muddy puddles surrounding her being the only company she wanted in that moment, the only physical sensation being the harsh bite of the after-storm cold that numbed almost everything else within her.

The squelch of Ballisters' footsteps sent an uncomfy grimace down her spine, but she refrained from any reaction, whether physical or verbal, more due to her exhaustion than self control

Her eyes remained locked on the treeline that marked the edge of the field as she felt the man take a seat in the wet dirt beside her.

"So, this ones new. Why here?" He asked, his own eyes locked on the same line of trees. Nimona shrugged. "Just happenstance then. I presumed it might have been a hiding spot of sorts."

"Anywhere is a hiding spot when you're a monster." She countered, chest contorting uncomfortably at her own words, turning her head away from him and resting her cheek atop her grazed knees in a feeble attempt to hide herself from his sickening over-caring gaze.

"Suppose that's why you're not actually hidden then." He replied, leaning back and resting his weight on his left hand.

She laughed with fake amusement, dismissing his attempt at consolidation entirely. "No need to pretend, boss. I know what I am, after all." She didn't need to see him to feel the tension that overtook his body, an understandable and deserved response to the memory they shared.

"That's not why you're out here right now, though, is it?" He prodded in a tone so calm it only frustrated the teen further.

"Sorry, boss. Didn't realise I needed permission to leave the lair." She retorted, turning to him with an unimpressed glare.

"You don't usually." He confirmed, biting back the urge to bite back. "But we both know that this isn't 'just going out', Nimona. You could have gotten hurt." The concern coating his tongue was genuine, but that didn't stop the girl from scoffing loudly.

Guilt wasn't a common emotion for Nimona to have to fight off, but it was making its presence known, and she wasn't pleased by its arrival, the twisting that turned in her chest and stomach only made worse by the damned feeling. What made it worse was the fact that it was her own actions that resulted in it in the first place.

"Who cares!?"

"I do." His voice was soft with a sincerity that Nimona refused to believe was there, and she huffed in defiance.

"That's laughable." She grumbled and resorted to her previous position. "We made a deal. That's the only reason I'm still allowed to be here."

"You know that's not true." He frowned, admittedly hurt by her conclusion.