[She lets him pull her up without struggle or complaint, and he'll quickly see that taking her out in public for long isn't an option. Her scrunched up pose had hidden the fact that she's still covered in Chekov's blood; it's smeared across her jeans and soaking through her borrowed shirt. She looks like someone who just came out of a horror movie...or who's still in the middle of one.]
⊕ march 15th, late evening