Katurian didn't get up immediately. He continued to stay where he was, flat against the bed, his arms spread and his palms open. He could feel the sticky remnants of Edward's blood on his face, his wrists. Stray specks were drying on his neck. At Edward's jibe, he forced a laugh and then rolled over, easing himself back up again. He was still shaking. It wasn't very much, granted, but as he arranged himself on the bed, it tripped him up. It made him unsteady.

"That month wasn't made up of my finest moments." His voice was rougher than he expected, and so he cleared his throat, dropping his eyes. Here he was, apologizing for his irrationality. Right after all that. Katurian wasn't blind to the irony. "B-But speaking of all that, we need to do something about the anklet. So I don't end up your roommate."