week 9 | wednesday night

[ If Jack had made use of the recreation room after such a horrible encounter with furries, robins, and a lamb - he'd find that his evening isn't going to end just yet. Elizabeth had been careful, waiting until the others allowed Jack to return to his room. IE: he probably insisted he had no where else to be. Luckily, "security" wasn't tight at all.

Like, at all.

Jack... psst.

It's a soft voice that doesn't match the quickness of the next few moments. In this brief amount of time of him leaving the recreation room to return to the elevator - something grabs him. It's sudden, a hand on a wrist similar to his actions earlier; a quick tug that forces the man (albeit slower than she would have liked) into the art storage room. With a shut of the door, the culprit was Elizabeth. Shocking, right?

Defensive, she gives the man his space and drags a hand down her face - her amputated pinky visible with no clear thimble like usual. ]

Lord, I didn't think I'd be able to reach out to you.

[ She hates this. She hates lying. She hates seeing him and she hates knowing that she's assisting him with something questionable. Elizabeth finds herself utterly stuck and to keep him from acting on impulse - she plays along. ]

Jack -

[ Her voice cracks a bit, and instead, she leans up against the wall, slumping a bit. ]

You know I didn't wish for any of this earlier.