Onika's POV...

He opened the door at the very first knock, as if was waiting just on the other side. He was wearing a grey t-shirt and black trousers, his hair unsettled. As if windblown, or may be he had raked his hands through them numerous times.

His eyes met mine, looking at me intently. Calculating. Thinking. Assessing. Taking in my disarrayed self. I could feel a bit of something like concern take over his features, in the way his eyes softened, his forehead furrowing ever so slightly.

He finally spoke, his voice a bit thicker than usual, "Jesus, Onika what happend to you, you are looking a complete mess...