beyond of point of broke up

steps

Allen woke up hungry. It was one of his least favorite sensations, becoming conscious only to be attacked by the feeling of something trying to gnaw its way through his stomach. He rolled onto his side with a light groan, closing his eyes against the too-bright room. To top it off, they barely had any food left. And he had known that eating through the vast majority of their reserves was a bad idea, but he had been very hungry. Lenalee hadn't helped, encouraging him to eat every edible thing they came across, not claiming anything for herself unless he prompted her to. Allen opened his eyes despite the light, wincing a moment as his pupils contracted. The left seemed to take longer than the right.

"Ah," someone started to say something, but stopped. Allen glanced at the door. It was open. "Good morning."

Allen turned to look over his shoulder and saw Lenalee standing by the window, hands clasped in front of her in an uncertain position he was seeing more often now. "Good morning," he replied automatically. Lenalee shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Did you sleep alright?"

"Yes." It was easy to answer her, but Allen wished that she would stop. It was a sad attempt at normality. Maybe it helped her, but Allen felt that much worse from her attempts to make him feel like nothing had happened. He could understand a little why Lenalee hated it when he smiled to reassure her.

"That's good."

But that had been different.

"We should get going," Allen said abruptly, getting to his feet. Lenalee nodded enthusiastically, moving away from the wall.

"Are you hungry?"

"No," Allen answered curtly. He sighed, before turning back to face her. "I'm not, I'd rather just get moving," he added in a softer tone. Lenalee seemed to understand, attributing his behavior to their surroundings.

"Yeah, me too," she agreed. "There isn't much left anyway, we should probably save it."

"Right."

Lenalee was really starting to hate the silence that descended over them after every minute or so of conversation. "Oh, here," Lenalee said, offering Allen one of the toothbrushes she'd taken from the Order. Allen accepted it with something resembling amusement before wandering off to find the bathroom.

Lenalee returned her attention to the window, catching her reflection in it as she ran her hands through her hair with a grimace. Not only was it tangled, but having fallen asleep with it still up the night before, her head was sore enough to keep her from wanting to redo it. It looked pretty silly down though, given her lack of a hairbrush, and she was glad that Allen had not seemed to notice (or was at least too polite to say anything). Experimenting, Lenalee gathered up her hair at the back of her head and twisted a hair band around it, securing it in a regular ponytail. Tucking the majority of her bangs behind her ears, she was a little surprised by how different she looked. If anyone got a good look at her it would be clear who she was, but the hair style did alter her appearance perceptibly.

Lenalee's thoughts drifted to Allen's hair. They would have to do something about that, if they were to enter a populated area. She could blend in effortlessly with the millions of other people in China, but Allen had far too many distinguishing features besides being a foreigner. She wondered vaguely if he would object to dyeing it, and where she could get the supplies to do so. Whatever color they chose would certainly hold well.