"Good night," Emery said as Zannrick left, and once the door closed behind him, she let out a loud sigh and slumped over with her hands braced against her knees.
Well. That was something else.
With Zannrick gone, Emery quickly finished dressing and then just...stood there, foot tapping and arms folded. A few minutes passed, then a few more just to be safe, before she cracked the door open and glanced down the hallway just to make sure she wasn't going to run into the man on the way to her room. Because, you know.
Awkward.
She felt she had done an admirable job keeping it together...sort of.
But also she kind of wanted to D I E.
Slipping out of the room, she speed-walked to the room she'd bought, shut the door behind her, and threw herself face-down onto the bed with a strangled groan into her arms.
This was a FUCKING DISASTER. She was a total fucking moron! He must think her an absolute lunatic dumbass, and hell, she probably was. God above, this was a horrible idea, but what were the bloody odds that she'd run into him like that?! Be stupidly casual and vulgar in front of him? And then nearly get killed by the man?! He must think her the most brainless, incompetent, silly--
Stop. Calm down. Curling her fingers into the blankets, she made a concentrated effort to slow her breathing. It was fine. This was fine. Everything was fucking fine. Just no more mistakes. She had to be on point. Professional. She was qualified for this, she had experience under her belt. She just had to show it. Right. Easy enough. She rolled onto her back with the pillow over her face, breathing into it to calm down (or lazily smother herself) before she hugged it to her chest. Morning would be the do-over. Fresh start, clean slate, they could both forget her boss had his face all up in her tits.
It took a while--sleep was not her friend--but eventually she was able to fret herself to sleep. It was a shitty sleep (not unusual), but that at least meant that she didn't oversleep, and she woke just before sunrise. Which was great, because she hadn't thought to ask where exactly they were meeting, or when.
She quickly dressed for the day, gathered her gear, and trudged down into the mess hall for a bowl of pottage. She wasn't really awake enough to feel hungry (she was exhausted, but had learned to function on even less), but she forced spoonfuls into her mouth as she tried to be subtle about glancing upstairs for signs of Zannrick. Not in a stalkery way, not at all! Just, you know. Because she had no fucking clue what the schedule exactly was and needed to intercept him.