Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Evening

Octavia should not have been staring at her phone. For one, as the clinic had so helpfully confirmed yesterday morning, she had a concussion. Not a very severe one, but enough of one that she could look forward to some symptoms for the next while, such as general grogginess and light sensitivity, both of which were hitting her hard today.

Her phone's screen felt very bright indeed.

And for another reason... It didn't help anything. She could see the last text from Duke - just the word 'perfect' - hanging at the end of the text chain, like an accusation, like an unnecessary reminder of just how far from that they'd ended up in the span of just a handful of days.

The cursor kept blinking in the new message field, and Octavia kept typing and erasing messages, and each one felt more hollow and inadequate than the last.

Are you okay?

I'm so sorry

Can i come home

There was nothing she could say to make this better. And even if there was, Octavia knew she couldn't say it over text. But right now, that was all she had. Just a little field to type her futile gestures in while she gave Duke space to be free of her and the destruction she brought with her. Maybe if she kept trying, she'd find something actually worth saying.

Her eyes hurt, and so did her head. But not enough to stop just yet.

[ooc: Open, if you dare.]